






































































































Fay watched proceedings from her sofa. — Page 96 


PRISCILLA OF THE BOLL SHOP 


BY 

NINA RHOADES 

M * 

Author of “ Little Miss Rosamond,” “ The Little Girl Next Door,” 
“ How Barbara Kept Her Promise,” “ The Children on 
the Top Floor,” “ Winifred’s Neighbors,” 

11 Only Dollie” 


ILLUSTRATED BY BERTHA G. DAVIDSON 



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) *> 

BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 


Published, March, 1907 


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Copyright, 1907 

by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 


All Rights Reserved. 
— 


Priscilla of the Doll Shop 


NORWOOD PRESS 

BERWICK & SMITH CO. 

NORWOOD, MASS. 

U. S. A. 


CONTENTS 


Priscilla of the Doll Shop 


PAGE 

9 


Lulu’s Penance 


103 


When Eva was Seven 


193 




ILLUSTRATIONS 


Fay watched proceedings from her sofa (Page 

96) Frontispiece 

Page 

Priscilla was soon busy cutting out little gar- 
ments 47 

“Well, I don’t think we need worry about it 

just yet ” 109 

Snip, snip, snip; down fell the soft golden 

curls 166 

“ If you ain’t the queerest little kid I ever did 

see” 178 

“ Is there money in it ? ” Eva asked breathlessly, 204 

“ Old man in the box, wake up ! ” 222 

A cunning, three-monthS'Old baby 283 


Priscilla of the Doll Shop 


























Priscilla of the Doll Shop 


CHAPTER I 

I T had been a dull day at the doll shop. 
Only four times since morning had the 
little bell tinkled to announce the entrance 
of a customer, and two out of these four persons 
had gone away without buying anything, while 
the third — a fussy old lady — after examining 
every doll in stock, had ended by carrying away 
one of the smallest celluloid ones, that cost 
only thirty-five cents. This lack of customers 
was particularly discouraging, considering that 
Christmas was only a month off, and if people 
don’t want dolls at Christmas time, when are 
they likely to want them? That was just what 
Miss Collins was thinking as she stood gazing at 
the solemn rows of dolls in the cases, her usually 
pleasant face puckered into a frown. After all, 
the doll shop was only an experiment. If it 
failed — Miss Collins did not like to think of what 
would happen then. 

The door behind her opened, and there was tliQ 


10 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


familiar tinkle of the little shop bell. Miss Col- 
lins turned eagerly to greet the new customer, 
but the smile of welcome faded from her lips, for 
it was not a customer, only Priscilla coming home 
from school. 

“Oh, it’s you, is it?” said Miss Collins, and 
there was such keen disappointment in her tone 
that Priscilla, who, though she was only eleven, 
knew quite as much about the affairs of the doll 
shop as Miss Collins herself, understood at once 
that something was wrong. 

“ Hasn’t it been a good day, auntie ? ” she 
asked anxiously, some of the brightness dying 
out of her face as she spoke. 

“ No, it hasn’t,” was the curt reply, and Miss 
Collins turned away abruptly, and began search- 
ing for a box she wanted. 

Priscilla put down her school-bag. 

“ Can’t I help you, auntie ? ” she inquired. 

“Yes; don’t take off your hat. I guess I’ll 
have to send you with that doll for the Wylder 
child. Miss Wylder sent me a note this morning. 
She says the little girl is getting impatient.” 

“ Oh, but it isn’t finished,” cried Priscilla in 
dismay. “ I was going to trim the hat this 
evening.” 

“It’s done; I finished it myself after Miss 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


II 


Wylder’s note came. Go and eat your lunch 
now, and by the time you’re through I’ll have 
the package done up for you to carry. I left 
some cookies and an apple on a plate on the 
kitchen table.” 

“ All right,” said Priscilla, “ only let me have 
just one more look at her before you do her up. 
Oh, but she is pretty ! ” And the little girl gazed 
with admiring eyes at the large gayly dressed 
French doll, which Miss Collins was about to 
place in a box lined with tissue paper. 

“ I believe I like her better than all the rest,” 
Priscilla went on. “ Perhaps it’s because I made 
so many of her clothes myself. I wonder if the 
little Wylder girl will love her as much as I do? ” 

“ Well, she ought to if she doesn’t,” said Miss 
Collins. “ We’ve had trouble enough with that 
doll, I’m sure, making all the clothes to order, 
and putting buttons and buttonholes into every- 
thing. Why in the world couldn’t they have been 
satisfied with one that was already dressed ? ” 

Priscilla said nothing. She knew the useless- 
ness of arguing with Miss Collins in her present 
humor, so she went away to the little room back 
of the shop, which did duty as both kitchen and 
dining-room, and was soon engaged in disposing 
of her impromptu lunch. 


12 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


She was just finishing- her last cookie when 
Miss Collins came in, carrying the pasteboard box 
neatly done up in paper. The frown had left her 
face, and she was evidently making an effort to be 
cheerful. 

“ Don’t hurry,” she said kindly, as Priscilla 
made haste to swallow her last mouthful of 
cookie. “ It’s only half-past three, and you 
haven’t far to go. How was school to-day ? ” 

“ Oh, it was very nice,” said Priscilla, brightly. 
“ I knew all my lessons, and went up head in 
arithmetic. The teacher says I shall be promoted 
after Christmas; isn’t that fine?” 

Miss Collins looked pleased. 

“ I believe you’re going to be a good scholar,” 
she said. “ Maybe you’ll be ready to graduate by 
the time you’re fifteen, and then you can go to 
the Normal School and prepare for a teacher. 
I’d like to have you a teacher some day.” 

Priscilla shook her head with decision. 

“ I would rather stay and help you in the shop,” 
she said. 

Miss Collins smiled rather sadly. 

“ The poor shop ! ” she said ; “ I wonder if it 
will be in existence by the time you graduate. 
It doesn’t look much like it, judging by the way 
things are going on.” 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


13 

“ Of course it will,” said Priscilla, cheerfully. 
“ Why, this is only the first year ; people haven’t 
begun to know about it yet. Just wait a while 
and you’ll see. It will be crowded all the time, 
and you and I will be so busy that we shall have 
to hire a boy to carry home the parcels.” 

Miss Collins smiled again, and this time her 
smile was brighter. 

“ You always look on the bright side of things, 
Priscilla,” she said. “ Now I guess you’d better 
be starting. I’ve written Miss Wylder’s address 
on the box, for fear you might forget. You may 
as well wait and find out if everything is satis- 
factory, and if Miss Wylder pays you, be careful 
not to lose the money on the way home. There, 
run along, like a good child. Are you sure you’ll 
be warm enough in that jacket? I meant to have 
bought you a winter coat before this, but some- 
how I haven’t been able to see my way to it.” 

“ Oh, I’m as warm as toast,” declared Pris- 
cilla. “ I didn’t feel the least bit cold going to 
school or coming home either. I don’t really 
think I need another jacket this winter, auntie.” 

“ You need it enough,” said Miss Collins, the 
frown coming back to her face again. “ The 
question is whether I can afford to get it for you. 
But we won’t talk about that now, so hurry along, 


14 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


and mind you’re back before it begins to get 
dark.” 

But before Priscilla left the room she threw 
her arms impulsively around Miss Collins and 
hugged her. 

“ How very good she is to me/’ the little girl 
said to herself, as she ran down the stairs and 
out into the keen, frosty air. “ If she hadn’t 
been so good, I wonder what would have hap- 
pened to me when my mother died.” 

It was a serious reflection, and Priscilla’s face 
grew grave as she hurried along the noisy, 
crowded street. Miss Collins rented the second 
floor of a building on Sixth Avenue, and Pris- 
cilla had become so accustomed to the rattle of 
elevated trains and the clang of trolley gongs 
that the noise and confusion made but little im- 
pression upon her. She walked fast, for despite 
her assurance that she was “ as warm as toast,” 
she found some difficulty in keeping her teeth 
from chattering. The afternoon was cold for 
November, and her thin cloth jacket had never 
been intended for winter wear. 

In a few minutes she turned from the noisy 
avenue into a quiet side-street, and after walking 
for some distance, and crossing another broad 
avenue, she paused before a handsome brown- 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


15 

stone house, and glanced first at the number and 
then at the address on her box. 

“ What a nice house ! ” she said to herself, as 
she mounted the front steps and rang the door- 
bell. “ I suppose the little Wylder girl has all 
the dolls she wants, and won’t care especially 
about this one. Oh, dear, and I do love it so! 
It must be beautiful to have everything one 
wants.” 

Priscilla was conscious of a sharp little pang of 
envy, but just then the door was opened by a 
tall boy in brass buttons, and she caught a glimpse 
of a handsomely furnished hall, with a bright 
coal fire burning in the grate. 

“ Is Miss Wylder at home ? ” the little girl 
inquired. 

The “ buttons ” replied in the affirmative, and 
Priscilla handed him her parcel. 

“ It’s from the doll shop,” she explained. 
“ Miss Collins said I had better wait and see if 
it was all right.” 

The boy moved aside, and then Priscilla found 
herself standing in the softly carpeted hall, while 
her parcel was being carried upstairs. Again she 
felt that little envious pang as she drew near to 
the fire and stretched out her cold hands. How 
pleasant it must be to live in a house where it 


1 6 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

was always warm and where everything was 
pretty! Priscilla had a great love for pretty 
things, inherited, perhaps, from her gentle, re- 
fined little mother, who had died so long ago, 
leaving the child alone in the world, save for good 
Miss Collins’s charity and love. 

The house was very quiet. She heard the boy 
tap gently at a door on the second floor, and there 
was a low murmur of voices. Then suddenly, so 
suddenly that Priscilla could not repress a start 
at the unexpected sound, someone began to cry. 
It was a fretful, whining cry, and through it all 
Priscilla could now and then catch a sentence or 
two: 

“ I said a blue dress, not a red one ; you know 
I did. No, I won’t have it: I don’t like it. I 
think you’re real mean not to remember what I 
told you.” 

Then followed low, soothing words, which 
Priscilla could not hear, but the fretful whine 
soon began again : „• 

“No, I won’t keep it; I tell you I won’t. I’ve 
got two already dressed in red. You can just 
send it right back and tell them I don’t want 
it.” 

There was a rustle of skirts on the stairs, and 
Priscilla looked up to meet the troubled gaze of a 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


17 

sweet-faced lady carrying a large French doll in 
her hands. 

“ Are you the little girl from the doll shop ? ” 
she inquired in a pleasant, but rather anxious 
voice. 

“ Yes'm," replied the little girl politely, but her 
heart sank, for the doll in the lady's hands was 
the very one she had herself dressed with so much 
pride and care. 

“ I am very sorry," the lady went on, “ but 
there has been a little mistake. The misunder- 
standing was mine. I understood my little niece 
to say that she wanted a doll dressed in red, but 
it seems I was mistaken. It was a blue dress she 
particularly wished, and she is very much dis- 
appointed." 

“ Oh," said Priscilla, shyness quite forgotten in 
astonishment, “ doesn't she like it? We thought 
it was so pretty." 

“ It is pretty, very pretty indeed, but you see, 
my poor little niece is a great invalid, and some- 
times I am afraid she is just a little unreasonable. 
I am wondering if they would be willing to take 
this doll back and let us have one dressed in blue 
instead. Do you think there would be any diffi- 
culty about it? " 

“ I don’t know," said Priscilla, doubtfully; “ I’ll 


18 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

ask auntie, but I’m afraid we haven’t any other 
doll in stock that is nearly as pretty as this one. 
There are buttons and buttonholes in all the 
clothes, and if you look at them I think you will 
find they are very nice. We were so anxious to 
have you pleased.” 

Miss Wylder smiled and looked more atten- 
tively at the doll she was carrying. 

“ They are beautifully made,” she said. “ Who- 
ever dressed this doll has taken a great deal of 
trouble.” 

Priscilla flushed with pardonable pride. 

“ I’m so glad you think so,” she said. “ You 
see, we only started the doll shop this year, and 
we’re so very anxious to make it a success.” 

“ You seem to take a great interest in the doll 
shop,” Miss Wylder said, with a kindly glance 
at the flushed, eager little face. “ Are you a rela- 
tion of Miss — Miss ” she paused, uncertain 

of the name. 

“ Miss Collins,” said Priscilla. “ I’m not a 
relation exactly, but she’s taken care of me ever 
since my mother died, and I call her auntie.” 

“ She must be a very good woman.” Miss 
Wylder was beginning to look interested. 

“ Oh, yes indeed,” cried Priscilla, earnestly ; 
“ you haven’t any idea how good she is. She 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


19 


works so hard, and she isn’t very strong either. 
She had inflammatory rheumatism last year; 
that’s why she had to give up keeping a boarding 
house. When she was ill and couldn’t look after 
things herself, the house ran down and people 
left. I was only ten then, and I couldn’t do much 
about the housekeeping.” 

“ I should think not,” said Miss Wylder, who 
by this time was looking both amused and in- 
terested. “ I don’t suppose you can do so very 
much even yet, though you must be eleven now, 
if you were ten last year.” 

“ I can do some things,” said Priscilla, mod- 
estly. “ I have to go to school, but I carry home 
the parcels, and in the evenings I help dress the 
dolls. I made nearly all the clothes for this one.” 

“ You did?” There was genuine surprise in 
Miss Wylder’s tone. “ You must be a very clever 
little girl to do such fine work. Who taught you 
to sew so well ? ” 

“ Auntie,” said Priscilla, proudly. “ She does 
beautiful sewing herself, and she was very par- 
ticular about having me learn to do it nicely, 
too.” 

“ Wait a moment,” said Miss Wylder, and 
without any further explanation she hurried 
away upstairs again. 


20 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


Priscilla heard a door close, and then every- 
thing was quiet for several minutes. At last the 
door opened again, and Miss Wylder called from 
the head of the stairs — 

“ Would you mind coming up, little girl ? My 
niece would like very much to see you.” 

With a beating heart, Priscilla ran up the stairs. 
This was beginning to be more of an adventure 
than she had expected. Miss Wylder was wait- 
ing for her in the upper hall. 

“ This way,” she said, and led Priscilla through 
an open door, into the very prettiest room the little 
girl had ever seen. But after the first hasty 
glance, Priscilla had no eyes for the lovely pic- 
tures, the blooming plants, or even the birds and 
gold fish; all her attention was centered on the 
little figure lying so still in the middle of the big 
white bed. Such a pale, sad little face it was, 
and yet so pretty. Priscilla, who had never been 
ill in her life, felt a sudden rush of pity for this 
other little girl, whom only a few minutes ago she 
had been envying. 

“ This is my little niece Fay,” Miss Wylder 
said. “ I have been telling her about your dress- 
ing the dollie yourself, and she said she would like 
to see you.” 

The eyes of the sick child — they were beautiful 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


21 


blue eyes — were regarding the visitor curiously, 
and as Priscilla approached the bed rather timidly, 
she inquired with startling abruptness — 

“ What's your name? ” 

“ Priscilla Pixton.” 

“ Priscilla, that’s funny; it sounds like a name 
in a story book. Mine is Fay Wylder. How old 
are you ? ” 

“ I was eleven in September,” said Priscilla. 
“ I think Fay is a beautiful name,” she added, 
shyly. 

For the first time an expression of something 
like pleasure came into the poor little invalid’s 
face. 

“ Sit down,” she said, imperiously; “ I want to 
talk to you.” 

Priscilla complied, and Miss Wylder, thinking 
the children might get on better by themselves, 
retired to the next room. 

“ I’m sorry you didn’t like the doll,” said Pris- 
cilla, feeling somewhat uncomfortable, for Fay 
was still staring at her as if she found her a 
subject for curiosity. 

“ I wanted a blue dress,” said Fay, the fretful 
note coming back into her voice. “ I told Aunt 
Nanny, but she forgot. Did you really make all 
the clothes yourself? ” 


22 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


“ Yes,” said Priscilla, blushing. 

“ It must be very funny to live in a place all 
full of dolls. Can you play with them as much 
as you like? ” 

“ I haven’t very much time for playing,” said 
Priscilla, smiling. “ You see, I’m at school every 
day till three o’clock, and then there are always 
things to do for auntie. I love dolls, though; 
don’t you? ” 

“ Ye — es, sometimes, but I get tired of them. 
I get tired of everything. I guess you would, 
too, if you had to lie here all the time and have 
your back ache.” 

“ I’m sure I should,” said Priscilla, sympa- 
thetically. “ Have you been ill a long time ? ” 

“ More than two years.” 

“ Oh ! ” cried Priscilla, and that was all, but 
there was so much sympathy and horror expressed 
in that one little word that Fay looked quite 
gratified. 

“ It’s my spine,” she said. “ I had an acci- 
dent. I was only nine and a half when it hap- 
pened, and I’m almost twelve now.” 

“ Were you always well before that?” Pris- 
cilla asked, timidly. 

“ Oh, yes, I was very strong. I used to love 
to run and climb, and do all sorts of tomboy 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


23 

things. It’s dreadful to have to lie still all day. 
I know I get fretful and horrid.” 

“ But — but you will get well some time, won’t 
you ? ” There was keen anxiety in Priscilla’s 
question. 

“ The doctors say I will, but I don’t know 
when. I’ve had operations and lots of horrid 
things done to me, but I don’t feel much better, 
and sometimes I get so discouraged.” 

“ Can’t you ever get up at all ? ” Priscilla asked. 
The thought of a little girl being always in bed 
seemed to her very terrible. 

“ Oh, they carry me to the sofa sometimes, and 
I have a wheeled chair, but it hurts my back if I 
sit up long. They took me to the seashore last 
summer, and I used to lie on pillows in the sand. 
I liked that, but I caught cold and was ill, and as 
soon as I was well enough to be moved we came 
home.” 

“ The sea is beautiful,” said Priscilla. “ Auntie 
and I go to Coney Island sometimes in the sum- 
mer, and I love it. Don’t the days seem very 
long when you have to lie still all the time ? ” 

“ Yes, sometimes, but when the pain in my back 
isn’t too bad I read and play games. Aunt Nanny 
and Miss Lee read to me a good deal, too, and I 
have lessons for two hours every morning. Tell 


24 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


me some more about the doll shop; do you live 
there all the time ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Priscilla, brightly. She was glad 
to be able to interest Fay if only for a few minutes. 
“ Auntie has taken the whole floor. The shop is 
the large front room, and the kitchen is in the 
back. Then there are two bedrooms; auntie and 
I sleep in one, and the other is rented to a young 
gentleman. He only sleeps there, though, and 
gets his meals out, so he isn’t much bother to 
auntie, and she is glad to get the money he pays 
for the room. You see, she only opened the doll 
shop in September, and it hasn’t been very suc- 
cessful yet.” 

There was a troubled expression on Priscilla’s 
bright face, and her voice sounded anxious. Fay, 
who was, after all, a tender-hearted little girl, was 
touched. 

“ Haven’t you any father or mother ? ” she 
asked, sympathetically. 

“ No,” said Priscilla ; “ they both died when I 
was little. My father went out to Alaska to 
try to make some money, and he died there. My 
mother wasn’t strong — there was something the 
matter with her heart — and when she received 
the news that my father was dead, the shock 
killed her. We were boarding with auntie then, 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


25 

and she was so good she wouldn’t have me sent 
to an orphan asylum, but said she would keep me 
herself. I was only five when my mother died, 
and I’ve lived with auntie ever since.” 

“ She must be very good,” said Fay, looking 
much impressed. “ I think I shall do something 
like that when I grow up, too. Oh, here comes 
Aunt Nanny. Aunt Nanny, I’ve decided to keep 
the doll with the red dress; I think I like it just 
as well as the blue one.” 

Miss Wylder and Priscilla both looked pleased, 
and Priscilla rose. 

“ I think I must go,” she said. “ Auntie will 
be worried if I’m out too long. I’m glad you’re 
willing to keep the doll, but I hope you’re not very 
much disappointed.” 

“ I’m not one bit disappointed,” Fay assured 
her. “ I was only just cross and horrid. You 
must come and see me again ; I like you.” 

Miss Wylder accompanied Priscilla to the head 
of the stairs, and having given her the money for 
the doll, wished her a kind good-afternoon. 

“ I am sure you are a good little girl,” she said, 
“ and a great comfort to Miss Collins, Perhaps 
some day we shall see you again. Are you warm 
enough in that jacket? It is a cold afternoon.” 

“ Oh, yes, thank you,” said Priscilla, smiling 


26 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

bravely, “ I’m very comfortable. Good-by, and 
— and I’m ever so much obliged to your niece for 
keeping the doll when she didn’t like it. It would 
have been a good deal of trouble to dress another 
right away, and we haven’t any in the shop as 
large as this one.” 


CHAPTER II 


W HEN Priscilla reached home she found 
the shop empty, and though the little 
bell tinkled quite as loudly as usual 
when she opened the door, no Miss Collins 
appeared. Priscilla was surprised; it was not 
like her aunt to leave the shop alone, and she 
was hurrying away to the kitchen, to discover 
what the matter was, when Miss Collins appeared, 
looking flushed and excited. 

“ Well/' exclaimed the good lady, indignantly, 
“ what do you think has happened now ? That 
Jones boy has met with an accident. A heavy box 
fell on his foot and bruised it badly. They sent 
him home in a cab, and the doctor’s been here, 
and says he won’t be able to walk for at least a 
week. He suggested going to a hospital, but of 
course I wouldn’t give my consent to that.” 

“ Of course not,” said Priscilla. “ Is his foot 
badly hurt ? ” 

“ Well, it’s pretty painful, I guess ; but no bones 
are broken, thank goodness. The doctor’s band- 
aged it and left some stuff to bathe it with. He 


28 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


can hobble around his room a little, but that’s all. 
The poor boy’s dreadfully worried for fear he 
may lose his place.” 

Priscilla looked deeply concerned. She had 
taken rather a fancy to the young man, although 
he had boarded with them for only a few weeks. 
He had such frank blue eyes and such a pleasant 
smile. She liked his voice, too; it was always 
courteous and kind, and somehow different from 
the voices of the other young men she had known. 

“ I don’t believe he’ll be very much trouble,” 
she said. “ I can take his meals in to him, and 
he seems so nice that I’m sure he won’t bother 
you any more than he can help.” 

Miss Collins’s expression softened. 

“ Well, perhaps he won’t,” she said, “ and any 
way, I wasn’t going to see that poor young fellow 
carried off to a hospital. He isn’t much more 
than a boy, and he looks as if he didn’t have half 
enough to eat sometimes. But he shall have 
enough while he’s laid up if I have to stint my- 
self for a month afterwards. I wish you’d just 
run over to the grocer’s, Priscilla, and get me half 
a dozen eggs. I’ll make some griddle cakes for 
supper. There’s no surer way of cheering up a 
boy than giving him something good to eat.” 

“ I’ve got the money from Miss Wylder,” said 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


29 

Priscilla, “and, oh, auntie, I’ve had such an in- 
teresting time.” And she proceeded to give 
Miss Collins an account of her afternoon’s expe- 
riences, in which her kind friend was much inter- 
ested. 

“ Poor little thing,” she said, when Priscilla 
had finished her story. “ I remember now that 
Miss Wylder told me the little girl was an invalid, 
but I’d forgotten about it. She seems a nice 
woman, and her brother, this child’s father, is 
very wealthy, I believe. Not that all his money 
can do his poor little girl much good, though. 
Well, after all, there are some worse things in 
the world than being poor. Now run along and 
get those eggs for me, like a good girl.” 

Miss Collins prepared a royal supper that night. 
There was tea, hot soda biscuits, thin slices of cold 
ham, and a dish heaped with delicately browned 
griddle cakes. She was very poor, poorer than 
perhaps anyone, even Priscilla, knew, but she had 
come of a long line of New England ancestors, 
to whom to be hospitable had been as natural as 
to breathe, and it was hard to learn economy, 
especially where others were concerned. When 
all was ready, Priscilla was dispatched with a 
well-laden tray to their lodger’s room. 

“ Tell him I say he’s to eat every mouthful,” 


30 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


commanded Miss Collins, as she sat down at the 
table and began pouring out her own tea. “ I 
shall be in pretty soon to see if he’s done it, and 
to look after his foot.” 

Priscilla carried her tray carefully to the front 
hall bedroom, and tapped at the door. A voice 
called “ Come in,” and the little girl opened the 
door and entered. It was a very small room, 
and it felt decidedly chilly. The only furniture 
was a bed, a bureau, a wash-stand, and one cane- 
bottomed chair, but on this occasion Miss Collins 
had brought in her own rocker, and in this a 
young man was sitting, one foot propped up on 
the other chair. He was very pale, and there 
were lines of suffering about his eyes, but at sight 
of Priscilla his face brightened, and he smiled 
faintly. 

“ I’ve brought you some supper,” the little girl 
said, setting the tray down on the edge of the 
bureau, the only place she could find for it. 
“ Auntie says you must eat every mouthful of it. 
I’m so sorry about your foot.” 

“ It’s pretty bad luck,” the young man said, 
with a sigh. “ I wish it hadn’t happened just 
now when I was beginning to get on after a 
fashion. What a delicious supper! Tell your 
aunt she’s sent me entirely too much.” 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


31 


The blue eyes were resting eagerly, hungrily, 
on the tempting tray, and the thin face had bright- 
ened wonderfully. Priscilla was confirmed in her 
opinion that Mr. Jones did not always have 
enough to eat. 

“ The cakes are good,” she said ; “ auntie makes 
delicious griddle cakes. I suppose you don’t get 
quite such nice ones at the restaurant.” 

“ I should say I didn’t,” Mr. Jones answered, 
drawing his chair to the bureau, and beginning 
to “ fall to ” with a good wfill. “ I haven’t tasted 
anything like this since — well, in many a long 
day.” 

He sighed, and a look of pain crossed his 
face. 

“ Does your foot hurt very much ? ” inquired 
Priscilla anxiously. 

“ Rather, but I don’t mind that as much as 
being laid up. If I should lose my situation ” 

He broke off abruptly, looking so worried and 
distressed that Priscilla’s kind little heart was 
filled with concern. 

“ Is it such a very nice place ? ” she asked 
timidly. 

Mr. Jones smiled a rather peculiar smile. 

“ I don’t suppose I should have considered it 
so once,” he said, “ but when a fellow has knocked 


32 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


about as much as I have for the past two years, he 
learns to be thankful for any honest job that 
comes along.” 

“ I don’t believe you’ll have to lose it,” said 
Priscilla, hopefully. “ Auntie says the doctor 
told her you wouldn’t need to stay in the house 
for more than a week, and that isn’t really very 
long. I saw a little girl this afternoon who hasn’t 
been able to walk for more than two years. That 
is much worse, don’t you think so ? ” 

Mr. Jones laid down his fork; he had grown 
very pale. 

“ Don’t talk about such things,” he said, 
sharply, and there was such a strange expression 
in his eyes that Priscilla was almost frightened, 
and with a murmured apology, she hurriedly left 
the room and went back to her aunt. 

After all, Mr. Jones did not eat such a very 
good supper, for when Miss Collins went in to 
take away the tray she found the plates only half 
emptied. 

The young man had thrown himself on the 
bed, and was lying with his face turned to the 
wall, but in answer to her questions he assured 
her that he was all right and his supper had been 
delicious. 

“ I suppose I haven’t much of an appetite,” he 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


33 


added by way of apology. “ You’re very kind, 
and I hope I’m not going to be a great bother to 
you.” 

“ I don’t mind a little bother now and then,” 
was Miss Collins’s cheerful answer as she knelt 
down by the bedside and prepared to bathe the 
injured foot. “ There’s one question I’d like to 
ask you, though, if I thought you wouldn’t 
object.” 

“ Ask anything you like,” the young man said 
gratefully. “ You’ve certainly got the right if 
anyone has. Most people would have packed 
me off to a hospital.” 

“ I daresay, but I haven’t a very high opinion 
of hospitals, at least not for a case like yours, 
where all that’s needed is a little looking after. 
The question I’d like to ask is: Have you a 
mother? ” 

“ No,” said Mr. Jones, sadly; “ she died when 
I was a little chap.” 

Miss Collins looked sorry, and the hands that 
were bathing the poor bruised foot were very 
gentle. 

“ I suppose there’s no use in advising you to 
go home to your folks then,” she said. 

“ What makes you think I have a home to 
go to ? ” 


34 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


“ Well,” said Miss Collins, slowly, “ I’ve lived 
in the world a good many more years than you 
have, and I’ve seen your kind before. You 
haven’t been used to this sort of life; it doesn’t 
require a very clever person to find that out.” 

Mr. Jones glanced at his work-hardened hands, 
and in spite of himself he smiled. 

“ I’ve roughed it enough for the past two years, 
at any rate,” he said, “ whatever I may have done 
before. I believe you are the best friend I’ve got, 
Miss Collins, and after your kindness to me to- 
day, I think I would do more for you than for 
anyone else I’ve met in a good while, but there 
are some things that won’t bear being talked 
about.” 

“ Which means, I suppose, that you don’t in- 
tend to tell me about yourself. Well, I know I 
haven’t got any right to pry into your affairs, but 
somehow you seem such a boy. You remind me 
of a little brother of mine, who died more than 
twenty years ago.” 

Mr. Jones said nothing, and there was a short 
silence, while Miss Collins bathed and bandaged, 
and the young man watched her with a very sad, 
almost wistful look in his blue eyes. He was the 
first to speak. 

“ That little niece of yours is a veritable sun- 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


35 

beam,” he began, by way of changing the subject. 
“ I haven’t seen such an attractive child in — well, 
in some time.” 

Miss Collins’s face brightened. 

“ Priscilla’s just about as good as they make 
them,” she said, smiling. “ I sometimes wonder 
how I should ever get on without her.” 

“ Are her parents both dead ? ” 

“ Yes, and what’s more, she hasn’t a relation 
in the world that I know of, and I’m glad of it, 
too.” 

“Glad of it?” Mr. Jones repeated, looking 
puzzled. 

“ Well, I suppose I oughtn’t to put it that way, 
but if the child had relations I should always be 
afraid of their coming and taking her away from 
me.” 

“ But you are her aunt ; I should think your 
claim would be as strong as any other.” 

Miss Collins looked rather embarrassed. 

“ Well, you see,” she explained reluctantly, 
“ I’m not exactly her aunt, that is to say there 
isn’t any blood relationship between us. Her 
father, Tom Pixton, was an old neighbor of ours 
in Bucksport, Maine, the town where I was born. 
His father was a lawyer and was very well off. 
Tom went to college, and afterwards he came to 


36 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

New York, but he hadn’t a good head for busi- 
ness, and never got on very well. He was an 
only child, and his mother died when he was a 
boy. 

“ Then old Mr. Pixton married again, and Tom 
and his stepmother never hit it off very well. 
The second Mrs. Pixton was a silly, extravagant 
woman, and she managed to make away with so 
much of her husband’s money that when he died, 
and things were settled up, there was precious 
little left for Tom. Well, after father and mother 
died, I didn’t care to stay on in the old place alone, 
so I sold the farm, and came to New York, where 
I hired a house and set up keeping boarders. I’d 
been at it for several years, and was doing pretty 
well, when who should come to see me one day 
but Tom Pixton. He told me he was married, 
and wanted to know if I could take him and his 
wife and little girl to board. I was willing 
enough, for I’d always liked Tom, and as I hap- 
pened to have an empty room, I said they might 
come as soon as they liked. I took to Mrs. Pix- 
ton the first minute I set eyes on her; she was 
such a pretty, refined little thing, but she was just 
about as helpless as a baby. Priscilla doesn’t take 
after her in that ; she’s got more good sense than 
any other child of her age that I’ve ever seen. 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


37 

It seems Mrs. Tom was an orphan and all alone 
in the world when Tom married her. They were 
very fond of each other, and of the child, but 
things hadn’t been going very well with Tom, 
and at the time they came to me he’d just made up 
his mind to try his fortunes in Alaska. Folks 
were flocking there to the gold mines then, and 
Tom was always a visionary sort of fellow. 

“Well, to make a long story short, he went, 
and his wife and Priscilla stayed with me. The 
poor little woman wasn’t a bit strong, and she 
fretted and pined after him till it made my heart 
ache to look at her. At first Tom wrote home 
that he was doing finely, but though he didn’t 
say much about it, the sufferings and privations 
out there must have been awful. At last there 
came a letter written by a man he knew, telling us 
that Tom had died suddenly of pneumonia. It 
was addressed to his wife, and she opened it, poor 
thing, never dreaming what was inside. She’d 
had heart disease for years, the doctor said, 
though we didn’t know it, and the shock just 
killed her.” 

“And Priscilla?” Mr. Jones asked, as Miss 
Collins paused in her story and took out her 
handkerchief. 

“ Oh, Priscilla was all right. She was too little 


38 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

to understand what she’d lost, and I kept her with 
me. She’s been with me ever since.” 

“ Miss Collins,” said the young man, impul- 
sively holding out his hand, “ I believe you are 
one of the best women in the world. I — I should 
like to shake hands with you.” 


CHAPTER III 

P RISCILLA’S first thought on waking next 
morning was of the little cripple. How 
terrible it would be to have to lie in bed all 
day instead of hurrying to dress so as to help 
auntie as much as possible before school. She 
wondered if she should ever see Fay again, but 
that scarcely seemed possible, and yet the little 
girl had asked her to come and see her. She 
mentioned the subject to Miss Collins at break- 
fast, but auntie did not seem to think it at all 
likely they would hear of the Wylders again, now 
that the doll had been sent home and paid for. 

“ I should love to go there,” said Priscilla, a 
little wistfully. “ It’s the most beautiful room 
you ever saw. The walls are all covered with 
lovely pictures, and there are two bookcases just 
full of books. Then there are birds and gold- 
fish and a music box.” 

“ I daresay the poor little girl would be willing 
to give them all up just for the sake of running 
about as you do every day,” said Miss Collins, 
39 


40 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


practically. And Priscilla, remembering poor 
Fay's sad little face, felt sure she was right. 

Mr. Jones was still in bed when Priscilla 
brought in his breakfast, but he greeted her with 
a pleasant smile, and said that his foot was better. 

“ Stay and talk to me a little while,” he added, 
as Priscilla, after arranging the breakfast things 
as well as she could for him, was turning to leave 
the room. 

“ I can’t,” said Priscilla. “ I’m sorry, but I’ve 
got to go to school, you know. I’ll come in to 
see you again this afternoon when I get home. 
Have you ” — glancing about the bare little room 
— “ have you any books to read ? ” 

“ I’m afraid I haven’t, but it doesn’t matter; 
I don’t feel much like reading just now. Do you 
like school ? ” 

“ Yes, pretty well. Some of the girls are 
rough, but the others I like very much, and I love 
our teacher.” 

“ I wish I had loved my teachers when I went 
to school,” Mr. Jones said, smiling rather sadly. 
“ I might have spared myself a good deal of 
trouble if I had.” 

“ Why didn’t you like them?” Priscilla in- 
quired with interest. 

“ Well, it wasn’t so much the teachers as the 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


41 


lessons that I disliked. I wasn’t fond of study, 
you see, but I mustn’t keep you now or you will 
be late. Come and see me when you can; it’s 
pretty lonely lying here by myself all day.” 

It did indeed seem both lonely and forlorn for 
the poor young man, and Priscilla thought a good 
deal about him all day at school. She resolved 
that she would go in to see him just as soon as 
she reached home, but when she did reach home 
at last something happened which for the moment 
put the recollection of the boarder completely out 
of her mind. She found Miss Collins looking 
both pleased and excited. There had been nine 
customers at the shop that day, and they had all 
bought something. 

“ And who do you think one of them was ? ” 
Miss Collins went on, after giving Priscilla this 
delightful news. “ That nice Miss Wylder, and 
she’s given me an order for twenty-four dolls. 
It seems they are getting up a Christmas tree for 
some poor children.” 

“ How perfectly lovely ! ” exclaimed Priscilla, 
joyfully. “ Oh, auntie, I believe we are going to 
have good luck after all.” 

“ Begins to look that way,” said Miss Collins, 
smiling. “ Miss Wylder’s promised to speak to 
her friends about the shop ; she says we ought to 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


42 

advertise more. But that isn’t all. It seems that 
little niece of hers has taken a fancy to you, and 
they want you to go there to see her again.” 

“ Really,” cried Priscilla, with sparkling eyes ; 
“ Oh, I’d love to go.” 

“ Well, you can; in fact, I’ve promised to send 
you. Miss Wylder told me a good deal about 
the poor child. I imagine she’s pretty thoroughly 
spoiled, but it isn’t to be wondered at, considering 
how she’s suffered. Her mother died when she 
was a baby, but her father just worships her, Miss 
Wylder says, and won’t have her crossed in any- 
thing. This aunt has taken care of her ever 
since the mother’s death, and she seems devoted 
to her. There were tears in her eyes all the 
time she was talking about the child.” 

“ When may I go? ” Priscilla asked, eagerly. 

“ Well, Miss Wylder said her niece had set 
her heart on having you this afternoon, and I told 
her if you got home from school early enough 
you might go for a while.” 

Ten minutes later Priscilla was once more on 
her way to the Wylders’ home, but this time she 
did not carry a parcel. 

She was evidently expected, for the boy in 
brass buttons admitted her without question, and 
she had no sooner stepped into the hall than she 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


43 

heard a pleasant voice saying from the head of 
the stairs — . 

“ Is that the little girl from the doll shop ? If 
it is, please ask her to come right up.” 

Thus invited, Priscilla again walked upstairs, 
and was met by a bright-faced young lady, who 
took her at once to Fay’s room. At sight of the 
visitor the little invalid’s pale face brightened 
wonderfully, and she actually smiled. It was the 
first time Priscilla had seen her smile. 

“ I’m so glad you could come,” she said joy- 
fully, holding out her hand. “ I’ve got such an in- 
teresting thing to talk to you about. Aunt Nanny 
is out, but this is my governess, Miss Lee. She 
knows all about my plan and she’s very much 
interested. Take off your hat and jacket, and 
then come and sit down; I want you to stay all 
the rest of the afternoon.” 

Priscilla complied, and Miss Lee, having seen 
the visitor comfortably settled in a low chair 
beside Fay’s bed, left the room, thinking the 
children would enjoy themselves more without 
her. 

“ Now,” began Fay, the moment the door had 
closed behind the governess, “ I want to talk to 
you about my plan. I thought of it first last 
night. I couldn’t sleep very well, and got think- 


44 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


ing about all sorts of things, you and the doll 
shop, and ‘ The Birds’ Christmas Carol.’ Did 
you ever read ‘ The Birds’ Christmas Carol ’ ? ” 

“No,” said Priscilla; “I haven’t very much 
time to read story-books, you see.” 

“ Well, you must read this one, for it’s lovely. 
Aunt Nanny read it to me last evening. Carol 
Bird was a cripple just like me. She was really 
a good deal worse, Aunt Nanny says, because she 
could never get well, and the doctors all say I shall 
be well some day. She died in the end, too, and it 
was very sad, but that part hasn’t anything to do 
with my plan. Carol was born on Christmas, 
and so she was particularly interested in all Christ- 
mas things. She was a very lovely little girl — 
a great deal better than most people, I think — and 
she lived in the most beautiful room you ever 
heard of.” 

“ I don’t believe it could possibly have been 
any more beautiful than this one,” said Priscilla, 
glancing about her with admiring eyes. 

Fay looked surprised, but she, too, glanced 
about at the familiar objects. Then she laughed. 

“ It’s funny,” she said ; “ I never thought of 
it before, but perhaps this room is just a little bit 
like Carol Bird’s, It said in the story that her 
family were always doing lovely things for her, 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


45 

and papa and Aunt Nanny really do very kind 
things for me. I never thought before that I 
was anything like a person in a book. Well, one 
Christmas, when Carol was ten, she decided that 
she would give a Christmas Tree and a dinner to 
nine poor children. That part of the story is 
very funny; Aunt Nanny and I both laughed till 
we almost cried over it, but I haven’t time to tell 
you about it now, because I’m in a hurry to get 
to my plan. It came to me all of a sudden in 
the night, and I was so excited I could hardly 
wait till morning to tell papa and Aunt Nanny 
about it. I’m going to have a Christmas Tree 
for some poor children, too. I can’t have it in 
my room the way Carol did, because Aunt Nanny 
says that really would be too much trouble, but 
it’s to be in the hall downstairs, and we’re to have 
dinner for them in the front basement. Dr. 
Trevor was here this morning, and I asked him 
if I could be carried downstairs, and he said of 
course I could, and the change would do me good. 
So it’s all arranged, and your aunt is going to 
get twenty-four dolls for us, because the children 
are all to be girls from Aunt Nanny’s mission 
sewing school. Now what I want you for, is 
to teach me how to dress those dolls.” 

lt I should love to do it,” said Priscilla, heartily. 


46 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

“All right; that’s settled then. You must 
come here every afternoon and we will dress the 
dolls together. I don’t know much about sewing, 
but you do it beautifully. I’ve been looking at 
that doll’s things, and they’re all just perfect. 
Aunt Nanny and Miss Lee both think it quite re- 
markable. I like you ; I liked you the first minute 
I saw you, and so I want you to come to see me 
every day and teach me how to make doll’s 
clothes.” 

Priscilla flushed with pleasure. 

“ I’ll come if auntie can spare me,” she said. 

“ She’ll have to spare you, because I want you, 
and people always do what I want. Besides, 
you’re to be my friend. I haven’t many friends. 
Girls come to see me sometimes, but I don’t think 
they like me much, and I don’t blame them, for it 
must be awfully stupid for them to have to just 
sit still and talk. I remember how I hated sitting 
still before I was hurt.” Fay sighed, and the 
wistful look came back into her face. Priscilla 
was touched. 

“ I don’t mind sitting still one bit,” she de- 
clared, “ and auntie says she thinks I like talking 
better than doing anything else. I’d just love to 
help you if you really want me.” 

So the matter was settled, and the hour that 



Priscilla was soon busy cutting out little garments 

Page 47. 
























* 

























PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


47 


followed was a very happy one to the two little 
girls. Miss Lee was called, and produced various 
bits of different materials suitable for dolls’ cloth- 
ing, and Priscilla was soon busy cutting out little 
garments, while Fay watched proceedings with 
admiring eyes. 

“ I think you’re the cleverest girl I ever knew,” 
she announced at the end of the first sewing 
lesson. “ You’ve simply got to come again 
to-morrow.” 

“ I will if I can,” said Priscilla, smiling. “ I 
think auntie will let me, but you see there are 
parcels to be taken home sometimes, and there 
isn’t anybody but me to take them.” 

“ Can’t your aunt hire a messenger boy? ” Fay 
inquired. 

“ I suppose she could, but that would cost 
money, you know.” 

“ Then I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said Fay, 
with a sudden inspiration. “ I’ll pay you some- 
thing every time you come, and that will make 
it all right. I know papa will give me the money 
if I ask him; he always gives me everything I 
want.” 

Priscilla felt the hot, sensitive blood rush up 
into her cheeks. 

“ I’m very sure auntie wouldn’t like that,” she 


48 PRISCILLA OP THE DOLL SHOP 

said, quietly, and Fay felt suddenly ashamed of 
her suggestion. 

“ Oh, all right,” she said, trying to speak very 
indifferently, though she was conscious of not 
feeling quite comfortable. “ You can do as you 
like, of course, only I do hope you will be able 
to come, for you have no idea how much I want 
you.” 

“ I’ll come just as often as I possibly can,” 
promised Priscilla, her good nature at once 
restored, and the little cloud disappeared as 
swiftly as it had come. But Fay told her aunt 
that evening that she was sure Priscilla and her 
aunt were “ very proud poor people.” 

Fay’s father and aunt came in together just 
as Priscilla was leaving, and they both seemed 
pleased to find the little invalid looking so 
bright. Mr. Wylder was a tall gentleman with 
gray hair, and Priscilla’s first impression of him 
was that he had a very stern face, but when Fay 
introduced her new friend to him, and he turned 
to greet her kindly, his smile and his voice were 
both so kind that she changed her mind and de- 
cided that she liked him very much. 

“ I’ve told Priscilla all about my Christmas 
plan, and she thinks it lovely,” Fay said to her 
aunt when Mr. Wylder had left the room, “ and 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


49 


do you know, Aunt Nanny, she said such a funny 
thing. She thinks this room is something like 
Carol Bird’s, at least she doesn’t think any room 
could be prettier than this one is.” 

Miss Wylder said nothing, but she smiled and 
gave Priscilla a kind glance. 

“ I wish we could have such funny, interesting 
people as the Ruggles family at our party,” Fay 
went on, “ but as we don’t know where to find 
them, we shall have to be satisfied with the twenty- 
four girls from our mission class. You must be 
sure and get me all their names and addresses, 
Aunt Nanny, because I want to write each one 
a regular invitation. I think it’s better to have 
just girls. Boys are so rough sometimes, and if 
they should make a great deal of noise it might 
give me a headache. You think they can all come, 
don’t you, auntie, dear? ” 

Miss Wylder answered that she did not think 
there was much doubt about it, and then Priscilla 
said she must go, as it would soon be dark. 

“ But you’ll surely come to-morrow,” Fay 
urged, anxiously. “ That is, if your aunt can 
spare you,” she added as an afterthought. 

“ I had a little talk with Miss Collins this morn- 
ing,” said Miss Wylder, smiling, “and she has 
promised to spare Priscilla to us whenever it is 


50 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


possible. But we mustn’t keep her any longer 
now, for it is getting late. Good-by, dear; you 
have done Fay good, I know. I haven’t seen her 
looking so bright in a long while.” 

“ She must take ‘ The Birds’ Christmas Carol ’ 
home to read,” said Fay. “ I’ve been talking to 
her about it all the afternoon, but I haven’t told 
half the story.” 

“ Oh, very well,” said Miss Wylder, and she 
went to the bookcase in search of the little book. 

“ That was another of the nice things that 
Carol did,” said Fay. “ She had ever and ever 
so many books, and she used to lend them to the 
sick children in the hospital. I think I should like 
to do that, too.” 

“ You have a great many, haven’t you? ” said 
Priscilla, with an admiring glance at the well-filled 
shelves. 

“ Oh, yes, papa and Aunt Nanny keep buying 
new ones for me all the time. Are you fond of 
reading ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed, I love it, but I don’t have very 
much time.” 

“ Well,” said Fay, grandly, “ you may borrow 
any of my books whenever you like. I’ll tell you 
the names of some of my favorites.” 

Priscilla looked much pleased. 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


51 

“ I shall be ever so much obliged,” she said, 
gratefully. “ I’m afraid I won’t have much time 
for reading before Christmas, but if you really 
don’t mind lending your books to people, perhaps 
you would let me take one home for Mr. Jones.” 

“ Who is Mr. Jones?” inquired Fay, with 
interest. 

“ He’s the young gentleman who boards with 
us,” Priscilla explained, “ and auntie and I both 
feel very sorry for him. He had a bad accident 
yesterday. He works in a grocery store, and a 
heavy box fell on his foot and bruised it so badly 
that the doctor says he won’t be able to walk for 
at least a week. I saw him this morning, and he 
looked so sad and forlorn. He said he hadn’t any- 
thing to read, and I’m afraid he must have found 
the day very long and tiresome. I meant to go 
in and see him again this afternoon, but when 
auntie said you wanted me, I forgot all about 
it.” 

“ Of course I’ll lend him a book,” said Fay, 
heartily. “ I wonder what he’d like ; what do you 
think, Aunt Nanny? ” 

Miss Wylder seemed doubtful, but when Pris- 
cilla explained that Mr. Jones was a very young 
gentleman, not much more than a boy, in fact, 
she suggested that possibly he might enjoy 


52 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


Stevenson’s “ Treasure Island,” and that book 
having been found, was given to Priscilla to take 
home to him, with Fay’s compliments. 

“ I wish I could send him something else be- 
sides,” said Fay in a sudden burst of generosity. 
“ It must be horrid to have to stay alone all day 
with nothing to read. Do you think he would 
like some grapes ? ” 

Priscilla said she was quite sure he would, so a 
large bunch of delicious hothouse grapes was 
arranged in a little basket, and the visitor de- 
parted, well laden and very happy. 

It was after five when Priscilla reached home, 
but much to her surprise she found two cus- 
tomers still in the shop. They were both ladies 
who had come to give Christmas orders, and as 
Miss Collins wrote down their names and ad- 
dresses, her heart grew lighter than it had been 
in many a day. Priscilla lingered in the shop to 
help do up a parcel for one of the ladies, and then, 
having put away her hat and jacket, and given 
her aunt a brief account of the afternoon’s pro- 
ceedings, she knocked at Mr. Jones’s door, the 
precious book hugged under one arm, the basket 
of grapes hung over the other. 

The young man was up and dressed, and was 
sitting as he had been the day before, with his 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


53 

injured foot supported on a chair. He had 
lighted his gas, but the room felt very chilly, and 
Priscilla noticed that he had wrapped his over- 
coat around him for warmth. 

At sight of his visitor his thin face brightened, 
though his first words were rather cross. 

“ Is this the way you keep your promise of 
coming to cheer a fellow up? Why didn’t you 
come before ? ” 

“ I’m very sorry,” said Priscilla, blushing. “ I 
meant to come right after school, but when I got 
home auntie told me a little girl had sent for me. 
She’s the one I spoke to you about yesterday, 
who has been ill so long, you know.” 

Mr. Jones winced slightly, but Priscilla was 
too much interested in her own affairs to notice it. 

“ So I went to her house, and she kept me 
all the afternoon. She’s going to have a Christ- 
mas tree for twenty-four little poor children, and 
she wants me to help her dress dolls. She lent me 
a book, ‘ The Birds’ Christmas Carol,’ and I told 
her about you, and how you hadn’t anything to 
read, so she sent one to you. Here it is, and just 
look at these grapes ; aren’t they delicious ? ” 

Priscilla lifted the lid of the basket, and Mr. 
Jones’s blue eyes grew suddenly wistful as he 
regarded the contents. 


54 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


“ I should say they were delicious,” he said. 
“ Did your friend give them to you ? ” 

“ No, she didn’t,” said Priscilla, laughing; “ she 
sent them all to you.” 

“ To me ! ” the young man repeated, a dusky 
crimson overspreading his pale face. “ You didn’t 
ask her to — to ” 

“ No, I didn’t ask her at all. I wouldn’t have 
done such a thing. She thought of it herself. 
She said she was so sorry for you.” 

For a moment it seemed uncertain whether Mr. 
Jones were more pleased or annoyed, but the 
pleasure predominated over the annoyance, and 
the good-humored expression came back into his 
eyes. 

“ I am sure you and your friend are both very 
kind,” he said. “ I shall enjoy these grapes, I 
can tell you. It’s a good while since I’ve tasted 
anything of this sort.” 

“ I’m so glad,” said Priscilla, looking much re- 
lieved. “ I was afraid perhaps you weren’t 
pleased, and I know Fay meant to be kind.” 

“ What name did you say? ” Mr. Jones spoke 
quickly, and all the color went out of his face as 
suddenly as it had come. 

“ Fay,” said Priscilla ; “ her name is Fay Wyl- 
der ; isn’t it pretty? Oh, there’s auntie calling me ; 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


55 


I must go.” And away flew the little girl, never 
dreaming of the strange effect her simple words 
had produced upon the boarder. 

She did not see Mr. Jones again that evening. 
Miss Collins had called her to look at a box of 
new dolls which had just arrived, and in her in- 
terest over them she quite forgot the young man 
in the next room until supper time. Then when 
she went as usual with the tray, she found the 
boarder’s door locked, and in answer to her knock 
Mr. Jones called from within' that he had a bad 
headache, and wanted nothing to eat. 

“ Poor boy,” said Miss Collins, when Priscilla 
reported the state of affairs to her, “ he’s got some 
trouble on his mind that we don’t know about, Pm 
sure. It isn’t just the hurting his foot and being 
afraid of losing his situation that makes him so 
queer. I wish he’d tell me what’s worrying him, 
for he’s only a boy, and a good one, too, or I’m 
much mistaken. I’m something of a judge of 
faces, and his is as honest a face as I’ve ever seen 
in my life.” 


CHAPTER IV 


T HE next three weeks was a very busy 
time for Priscilla. All the morning she 
was at school, and in the afternoon, as 
often as Miss Collins could spare her, she and Fay 
were busy dressing dolls. But it was not every 
day that she could be spared, for affairs at the 
doll shop were decidedly improving. Whether 
Miss Wylder’s telling her friends had anything 
to do with it or not, I do not know, but certain 
it is that from the day on which she paid her 
second visit to Miss Collins the fame of the little 
shop began to spread very fast indeed. Custom- 
ers poured in — there was seldom an hour in the 
day in which two or three failed to appear — and 
Miss Collins had as many orders as she could fill. 
Priscilla had to carry home parcels and assist in 
waiting on impatient customers, but Miss Col- 
lins did not forget her promise to Fay’s aunt, and 
as often as possible the little girl was sent to spend 
an hour with the invalid. Those hours were very 
pleasant ones for Priscilla. The sympathy she 
had at first felt for the poor little cripple had 
rapidly developed into a genuine affection, for in 
56 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


57 


spite of her imperious ways and occasional fret- 
fulness, Fay was really a warm-hearted, affection- 
ate child. She had taken a great fancy to Pris- 
cilla on the first afternoon of their acquaintance, 
and as the days went on, that fancy, which her 
aunt had at first believed to be a passing whim, 
grew and strengthened. It was some days before 
Miss Wylder and Miss Lee were sure whether or 
not they approved of this sudden friendship. 
Priscilla certainly seemed very sweet and refined, 
but then, as Miss Lee remarked, they really knew 
nothing whatever about the child, so for the first 
week one or other of the ladies would generally 
contrive to be in the adjoining room, where she 
could overhear the conversation of the two little 
girls. At the end of that time, however, this 
supervision was no longer considered necessary. 

“ She is a dear child,” Miss Wylder told her 
brother one evening, after Priscilla had gone 
home. “ Her aunt may be the proprietor of a 
doll shop and she may go to the Public School, 
but I am convinced that our little Fay could not 
have a better companion.” 

Fay did not lose interest in Mr. Jones. On 
Priscilla’s second visit she was anxious to know 
how his foot was getting on, and how he had 
enjoyed “ Treasure Island ” and the grapes. 


58 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

Priscilla could not give her much information on 
the subject, however. Mr. Jones had certainly 
eaten the grapes, but he had not sent any message 
to Fay about them, nor had he mentioned the 
subject of “ Treasure Island.” She did not even 
know whether he had read the book or not. Fay 
was rather disappointed. She had hoped for 
some expression of gratitude from her unknown 
protege. Mr. Jones’s foot was improving slowly, 
but he was not yet able to go back to his work. 
As soon as he was well enough to walk across the 
hall Miss Collins insisted upon his spending his 
days in her own neat kitchen, which was much 
warmer and more comfortable than his own little 
room, so it happened that both she and Priscilla 
saw a great deal of their boarder, and grew to 
know and like him very much. He was a quiet 
young man, never made any trouble, and was 
always willing and anxious to help in any way 
in his power. 

“ I don’t know how I can ever prove to you how 
grateful I am,” he said to Miss Collins one day. 
“No one — not even my own mother — could have 
been kinder to me than you have been. If only 
I can get back to my work I will try to repay ” 

“ Nonsense,” interrupted Miss Collins, sharply. 
“If there’s one thing I detest above another, it’s 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


59 

to hear a person talking about repaying a little 
natural kindness. I’d like to know what I’ve done 
for you more than any decent Christian would.” 

“ I was laid up with bronchitis in California 
last. year,” Mr. Jones said, quietly, “ and my land- 
lady had me packed off to the hospital in double- 
quick time, and kept all my belongings in pay- 
ment for the board she said I owed her.” 

Miss Collins muttered something that sounded 
like “ Heartless wretch,” but just then the shop 
bell rang, and the subject was not renewed. 

Spending so many afternoons with Fay, Pris- 
cilla naturally found a good deal to say about her 
new friend, and she would entertain Miss Collins 
with long accounts of the little invalid’s doings, 
in all of which her aunt was much interested. Mr. 
Jones never made any remark at these times; 
never even asked a question about the Wylder 
family, and yet in some vague way, which she 
could not herself understand, Priscilla felt sure 
that he, too, was interested. She felt still more 
convinced of this fact after a certain afternoon, 
when she came home earlier than usual, with the 
news that Fay was not feeling well, and had not 
been able to take a sewing lesson. 

“ She looked so pale and had such a dreadful 
headache,” said Priscilla, mournfully. “ She 


60 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

made me stay a little while, but she wasn’t able 
to talk much, and Miss Wylder said I had better 
go home. I’m afraid she suffers a great deal 
sometimes, though she says she’s ever so much 
better than she was last year.” 

Mr. Jones had been sitting by the window, 
reading the newspaper, but at this moment he rose 
abruptly, let his paper drop unheeded to the 
floor, and limped away out of the room. Pris- 
cilla looked after him in surprise. 

“ I’m afraid Mr. Jones doesn’t feel well,” she 
said. “ Did you notice how pale he is ? ” 

“ I didn’t notice particularly,” answered Miss 
Collins, who was busy at the other side of the 
room. “ He never looks very rosy, poor fellow. 
I’d give a good deal to be able to get that miser- 
able, despairing look out of his eyes.” 

Mr. Jones did not come in to supper that even- 
ing, and next morning he was more silent than 
usual. It was Saturday — always a busy day at 
the doll shop now — but as soon as breakfast was 
over Miss Collins told Priscilla she might go 
around to the Wylders’ and inquire how the little 
girl was. Priscilla hurried away, and soon re- 
turned with the good news that Fay was de- 
cidedly better. There were several customers in 
the shop, but as soon as she could she made her 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 61 

escape to the kitchen, where she found the boarder 
staring aimlessly out of the window. 

“ I just came in for a minute,” said Priscilla. 
“ Auntie wants me in the shop, but I thought you 
might like to know that my friend is a great deal 
better.” 

Mr. Jones said nothing, but his face — which had 
been very grave all the morning — brightened per- 
ceptibly, and Priscilla felt sure that he was 
pleased. 

It was just a week before Christmas, and 
Priscilla and Fay were busily sewing together as 
usual. Both Miss Wylder and the governess had 
gone out shopping, but Marie, Fay’s pretty Swiss 
maid, was within call. 

“ I think it’s going to be the loveliest Christmas 
I ever had,” said Fay, as she stitched away in- 
dustriously. “ Even when I was well I didn’t 
have anything like this to look forward to. I 
never thought then of having a Christmas tree 
for poor children, though I always had one my- 
self. They had a tree for me last year, too, but 
the lights hurt my eyes and made my head ache, 
and somehow I didn’t enjoy it a bit. I’m afraid 
papa and Aunt Nanny were disappointed; they 
had taken so much trouble.” 


62 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

“ Don’t you think it’s more fun to get up things 
for other people than for ourselves?” Priscilla 
said, innocently. “ I’m making a comb and brush- 
case for auntie’s Christmas present, and it’s so 
exciting to try to get it done without her seeing. 
I haven’t much time, of course, and I have to 
run and take a few stitches every time I have a 
minute to spare.” 

“ What do you think my aunt is going to give 
you for Christmas ? ” Fay inquired with interest. 

Priscilla blushed. 

“ She’s given me my Christmas present al- 
ready,” she said, glancing towards a warm, serv- 
iceable brown jacket hanging over a chair. “ You 
see, I really needed it very much this cold weather, 
so she thought I’d better have it now instead of 
waiting till Christmas.” 

“ How stupid,” exclaimed Fay, indignantly. 
“ I should hate to have a Christmas present before 
the right time, and besides, I shouldn’t care about 
a thing to wear. Isn’t she going to give you 
anything else? ” 

“ Oh, I don’t believe so; a jacket is a beautiful 
present, and it cost a good deal of money.” 

“ But don’t you hang up your stocking and get 
presents that aren’t just useful? ” Fay inquired in 
real astonishment. 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 63 

Priscilla laughed. 

“ I used to hang up my stocking when I was 
little, ” she said. “ Auntie kept a boarding house 
then, and we had more money than we have now. 
The doll shop is beginning to pay now, but auntie 
thinks we ought to be very careful not to spend 
too much money this year.” 

“ Well, you're coming to my Christmas tree, 
anyway,” said Fay, secretly resolving that her 
friend should have at least one present that was 
not “ just useful.” “ Auntie has useful things 
for all the children, and the dolls are my presents. 
Papa gives the candy, and there’s to be a big box- 
ful for everybody. If only Horace were at home 
I should be happier this Christmas than I ever 
was before.” 

“ Who is Horace?” 

“ Oh, don’t you know my big brother Horace ? 
But of course you don’t, for you’ve only known 
us a little while, and nobody talks much about 
him now.” 

Fay sighed, and the sad, wistful expression — 
which had almost disappeared of late — crept back 
into her face. 

“ Don’t you think he will come home for Christ- 
mas ? ” Priscilla inquired, anxiously. 

Fay shook her head. 


64 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

“ I’m afraid he won’t,” she said sadly. “ He’s 
been away such a long time, more than two years.” 

“ Why don’t you write to him and ask him to 
come home if you want him so much?” 

The tears started to Fay’s eyes. 

“ I wish I could,” she said, “ oh, how I do wish 
it, but perhaps he wouldn’t come even if I did, 
and besides, I don’t know where he is.” 

Priscilla’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. 

“ You don’t know where he is? ” she repeated, 
incredulously. 

“ No. You see, he had a quarrel with papa, 
and — and he went away. It was all very dread- 
ful, and I don’t like to talk about it much, but I 
think I should like to tell you. You’re the nicest 
girl I ever knew, and I’m sure you wouldn’t re- 
peat things I asked you not to.” 

“ Of course I wouldn’t,” said Priscilla, de- 
cidedly. 

“ Well, then, I’m going to tell you, but first 
would you mind shutting the door, please? I 
don’t want Marie to hear. She’s very nice, but 
Aunt Nanny says she gossips, and she didn’t live 
with us when it happened.” 

Priscilla complied with this request, and when 
she had returned to her seat by the bedside, Fay 
went on. 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 65 

“ Horace was about the nicest brother that a 
person could possibly have. He was so hand- 
some and brave, and so full of fun all the time. 
He is eight years older than I am, but he was 
always so good to me, and I think I loved him 
better than anyone in the world. He was never 
afraid of anything, and when he was only four- 
teen he saved another boy from drowning. I was 
so proud of him then, and so was papa, but after- 
wards when he wouldn't study, and didn't want to 
go to college, then papa was angry. Papa is very 
fond of study himself, and he never could under- 
stand Horace’s not caring. He said he had made 
up his mind that his boy should go to college, and 
when papa once makes up his mind about a thing, 
he is very decided. 

“ Well, Horace tried for his Harvard exam- 
inations two years ago last spring, and failed. 
Papa said he must study hard all summer and try 
again in the autumn. I think Horace really meant 
to study, but we were at Bar Harbor that summer, 
and there were such a lot of young people there, 
and so much fun going on all the time, that I 
suppose he forgot. At any rate, when the time 
for the fall examinations came he failed again, 
and then papa was terribly angry. They both have 
very quick tempers, and — and, oh, it was a dread- 


66 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

ful time. It frightens me to think of it even now. 
Horace had always wanted to go into an office 
when he left school, and when papa told him he 
wouldn’t do any more for him, and that he could 
take care of himself in future, he said he would 
go away and earn his own living. I know now 
that papa didn’t really mean what he said, but I 
was only nine then, and when I thought that 
Horace might be going away for ever I was dread- 
fully frightened. Aunt Nanny was out, so there 
wasn’t anyone to interfere, and when I heard 
them both talking so loud, and Horace came out 
of the library looking so angry, I ran after him, 
and tried to hold him back and coax him not to 
go. It was just at the head of the stairs, and I 
don’t think Horace even saw me. He just felt 
there was something in his way and he gave 
it a push. I lost my balance, and — and that’s all, 
except that Horace did go away, and has never 
come home since.” 

Fay paused and hid her face in the pillow, with 
a sob. There was a moment of dead silence, and 
then Priscilla said softly — 

“ Is that how it happened — how you were hurt, 
I mean ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Fay. “ Nobody knew how bad it 
was at first. When I saw how terribly poor 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 67 

Horace felt because he had made me fall down- 
stairs, I got up and pretended I wasn’t hurt. Then 
papa came and was more angry than ever. He 
said dreadful things to Horace, and the last thing 
I remember was seeing Horace go out and shut 
the front door after him. Then all at once the 
pain in my back got terribly bad, and I fainted.” 

“ And didn’t your brother ever know ? ” Pris- 
cilla asked in an awestruck whisper. 

“No, I don’t think so ; he has never been home 
since that day, and we don’t know where he went 
or what became of him. I was very ill for a long 
time, and when I was better Aunt Nanny told me 
never to mention Horace’s name to papa. I 
didn’t, not for a long time at least. Papa was so 
changed ; he hardly ever smiled, and his hair be- 
gan to get gray. But last summer when I was 
so ill at the seashore I was delirious, Aunt Nanny 
said, and kept calling for Horace to come home, 
and after that papa talked to me about him. He 
told me how hard he had been trying to find 
Horace, and he thinks now that it was partly his 
own fault that it all happened, and that if he 
hadn’t been quite so determined about college, 
and some other things, it might have been all 
right. Horace was never a bad boy, only proud 
and obstinate, and he and papa really loved each 


68 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

other dearly. Oh, if I only knew where he is — 
if he would only come home ! ” 

“ I’m so sorry,” whispered Priscilla, laying her 
hand softly on her friend’s forehead, for Fay was 
sobbing as if her heart would break. “ Don’t cry 
so, please don’t; you will make yourself ill. Your 
brother will come home sometime, I’m sure he 
will.” 

“ I wish I could feel sure,” sobbed Fay, “ but 
it’s such a long time since he went away, and 
we’ve never heard one word from him. Some- 
times I think he must be dead, or he would surely 
have come home before now.” 

“ Perhaps he has found out about — about you, 
you know,” faltered Priscilla, “ and is afraid to 
come home. He might think you wouldn’t be 
glad to see him.” 

“ Not glad to see him — not glad to see my own 
precious Horace!” cried Fay, lifting her head 
and regarding her friend with wide, astonished 
eyes. “ Why, he knows how I love him ; he knows 
I would rather have him come back than have 
anything else in the whole world.” 

Priscilla was distressed. How could she make 
Fay understand what seemed so perfectly natural 
to herself? 

“ But if he knew that he had hurt you so 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 69 

badly — that you had been so ill ” she began 

timidly, but Fay cut her short. 

“ Do you really think that could possibly be the 
reason?” she cried, her cheeks flushing in sud- 
den excitement. “ Oh, Priscilla, if I thought 
that, I’d find him somehow — I don’t know how, 
but I’d have to — I’d have to let him know that he 
was mistaken; that I loved him every tiny bit as 
much as I ever did. Why, it wasn’t his fault ; he 
didn’t even see me when he pushed, and he was so 
frightened and distressed when he thought he had 
hurt me only just a little. Oh, Priscilla, do you 
really think that may be the reason why he has 
stayed away so long ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” said Priscilla, who was almost 
frightened at the effect her words had produced 
on the nervous little invalid. “ I only thought 
that might be the reason. I wish you wouldn’t 
get so excited, Fay; I’m so afraid you will be 
ill.” 

“ No, no, I won’t; I’m only so glad. Why, 
Priscilla, it seems so wonderful. I never dreamed 
that could possibly be the reason; I thought he 
stayed away because he was angry with papa, but 
if what you think should really be true, why, he 
must come home, he simply must.” 

There was a knock at the door, and in answer 


70 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


to Fay’s impatient “ Come in,” Marie appeared 
with the announcement — 

“ The doctor is here, Miss Fay; may he 
come in ? ” 

Priscilla rose hastily. 

“ I’ll come again to-morrow,” she whispered, 
and quickly gathering up her belongings, she 
disappeared by one door just as the kind-faced 
doctor entered by the other. 


CHAPTER V 


P RISCILLA thought a great deal about the 
sad story Fay had told her, and the more 
she thought of it, the more convinced she 
became that she had been correct in her opinion. 
If poor Horace Wylder had, through some means 
or other, learned of the terrible harm he had un- 
intentionally caused, what was more natural than 
that he should continue to remain away, fearing 
that his family might be unwilling or unable to 
forgive him? Remembering Fay’s remarks about 
gossip, she was careful not to mention the subject 
at home, but she was so unusually silent all the 
evening that Miss Collins twice inquired if she 
had a headache, and Mr. Jones said, with a smile: 
“ A penny for your thoughts, Miss Priscilla.” 
Mr. Jones was quite well again now, and he 
had not lost his situation in the grocery store. 
On the day when he had limped painfully into the 
store for the first time after his accident, he had 
received a very kindly welcome from both the 
proprietors. 


71 


72 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


“ We’ve kept your place for you,” the head of 
the firm remarked, smiling. “We were obliged 
to engage another young fellow temporarily, but 
he hasn’t proved a success, and you’re welcome to 
come back as soon as you can manage it.” 

That evening Mr. Jones looked happier than 
either Miss Collins or Priscilla had ever seen him 
look before. 

“ Now that I’m all right again, I mustn’t tres- 
pass on your kindness any longer,” he said, with 
a regretful glance at the cozy supper table. “ I’ll 
go back to getting my meals in the old way to- 
morrow.” 

“ You needn’t unless you want to,” said Miss 
Collins, kindly. “ If you prefer taking your 
meals with us, you can do it, and pay me just 
what you were accustomed to pay at the restau- 
rant.” 

The young man’s face brightened, but he looked 
a little embarrassed, too. 

“You’re awfully kind,” he said, gratefully; 
“ I don’t know of anything that I should like 
better, but you see — well, the fact is, you give a 
fellow such good things to eat, so much better 
than anything I could get for the same price any- 
where else, that I hardly know ” 

“ Nonsense,” interrupted Miss Collins, sharply. 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


73 


“ If you think what’s good enough for Priscilla 
and me is good enough for you, too, why, it’s all 
right, and you needn’t say another word about 
it.” 

So Mr. Jones continued to take his breakfast 
and supper in the little kitchen, and the friendship, 
begun in the time of his helplessness, grew and 
strengthened day by day. The more she saw of 
the young man, the better Miss Collins liked him, 
and the surer she became of the fact that he had 
not always been accustomed to his present mode 
of life. But after that first evening she never 
again alluded to the subject, or made any effort 
to win his confidence. 

“ Maybe some day when he knows me better 
he’ll tell me,” she said to herself, “ and in the 
meantime the best thing I can do is to be kind to 
the poor boy, and keep him out of mischief.” 

There did not seem to be much danger of Mr. 
Jones’s getting into mischief. Apparently he had 
no friends whatever, and, except in business 
hours, he never went out. 

The next day after Priscilla had heard the story 
of Fay’s brother was Saturday, and as it was the 
Saturday before Christmas, it proved a very busy 
day at the doll shop. Customers began arriving 
as early as nine o’clock in the morning, and after 


74 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


that neither Miss Collins nor Priscilla had a mo- 
ment to spare. Going to the Wylders’ was quite 
out of the question, and Priscilla spent the entire 
afternoon doing up parcels and making change. 
Then came Sunday, and on Monday morning 
there was school as usual, so it was not until Mon- 
day afternoon that Priscilla found time to visit 
her friend again. She hurried off to the Wylders’ 
with a heart full of pleasant anticipations, but her 
hopes of a pleasant afternoon seemed doomed to 
disappointment. She found Fay looking pale and 
tired, and the little invalid was more fretful and 
exacting than she had been since the first day of 
their acquaintance. She reproached Priscilla bit- 
terly for not having kept her promise of coming 
on Saturday; didn’t see what difference it made 
about customers ; was sure the dolls’ dresses would 
never be finished in time, and was altogether so 
cross and unreasonable that Priscilla felt more 
than half inclined to go home again. But she 
was very sorry for Fay, and when she remem- 
bered how much the poor child had to bear, vex- 
ation changed to sympathy, and she was so gentle, 
and at the same time so cheerful, that before long 
Fay began to feel ashamed of herself. 

“ I’ve been perfectly horrid all day,” she con- 
fessed humbly, when Aunt Nanny had left the 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


75 


room, and the little girls were alone together. 
“ I’m afraid poor Aunt Nanny and Miss Lee have 
both had a dreadful time. I wouldn’t do my les- 
sons with Miss Lee this morning, and when Aunt 
Nanny wanted to show me some of the pretty 
things she has bought for the tree, I wouldn’t 
even look at them. She had a bad headache, too, 
and it was very kind of her to take so much 
trouble. I wonder what makes me so disagree- 
able sometimes.” 

“ I should think it would be very hard to be 
always good and patient when you have to lie still 
all the time,” said Priscilla, consolingly. 

“ Oh, I’m used to that, and besides, I don’t 
suffer nearly as much as I used to. Aunt Nanny 
says it’s my nerves that make me cross, but I 
don’t know. I’ve been so excited ever since you 
said that thing about Horace. At first I was very 
happy, but now I’m getting so discouraged. I’ve 
been thinking and thinking, and I can’t imagine 
how I’m ever going to let Horace know. You 
see, I haven’t the very least idea where he is.” 

“ Have you spoken to your aunt about it ? ” 
Priscilla asked. 

“ No, I didn’t like to. Aunt Nanny always gets 
so solemn whenever I talk about Horace, and 
papa is away. He’s coming home to-night, but I 


76 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

don’t think I should quite dare to speak to him 
either.” 

“ If you could only write your brother a let- 
ter,” suggested Priscilla. 

“ I have done it,” said Fay, eagerly. “ I wrote 
one yesterday morning when Aunt Nanny and 
Miss Lee were in church. I made Marie give me 
a pencil and some paper, and Fve kept the letter 
under my pillow ever since. But the trouble is 
I don’t know how to address it.” 

“ I suppose your brother isn’t in New York? ” 

“ I don’t believe so. It doesn’t seem as if he 
could be and not come home, and yet New York 
is such a big place. But even if he were in 
the city, I wouldn’t know how to address the 
letter.” 

“ You might send it to the General Post Office,” 
said Priscilla, thoughtfully. “ I don’t suppose 
there would be much chance of his ever getting 
it, but he might.” 

Fay’s face brightened. 

“ I never thought of that,” she said. “ Do you 
suppose people ever get letters that are addressed 
to the General Post Office ? ” 

“ Auntie got one from there once,” said Pris- 
cilla. “ It was from an old friend of hers, who 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


77 

didn’t know her address, so she just sent it to the 
General Post Office, New York City, and do you 
know, they actually found out where auntie lives, 
and sent it to her. We thought it was quite 
wonderful.” 

Fay’s eyes were sparkling with sudden hope. 

“ I believe I’ll do it,” she said. “ Probably he 
won’t ever get it, but there’s just one chance, and 
it can’t possibly do any harm.” 

Priscilla agreed that it certainly could not do 
any harm, and then Fay drew from beneath her 
pillow a crumpled sheet of paper, which she 
smoothed out carefully on the spread. 

“ Would you like to read it?” she inquired, 
not without some pride in the composition. 

Priscilla said she would like to very much, if 
Fay were sure she didn’t mind. 

“ I don’t mind at all,” answered Fay, promptly. 
“ I’d like to have you read it, and tell me if you 
think I’ve said enough to make him quite sure 
how much I want him.” 

So Priscilla took the poor crumpled little letter 
and read it. The writing was very shaky, for 
Fay’s hand had been trembling with excitement, 
and some of the lines were almost rubbed out, 
but this is what she read : 


78 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


“ New York, December 20th, 1903. 

“ My Own Darling Horace : 

“ I am writing this letter to you just because I 
can’t help it. I don’t suppose you will ever get 
it, for I don’t know where you are, or how I can 
ever send it. Oh, Horace dear, why don’t you 
come home? I am sure you would come if you 
only knew how terribly we all want you. Papa 
says he has tried very hard to find you, but he 
can’t because nobody has any idea where you are. 
He is so sorry, Horace; he never thought you 
would really go away, and he says he was too 
strict. Just think of papa’s saying that; but he 
did, he told me last summer, and you can’t think 
how unhappy he looked when he said it. 

“ For a long time I thought the reason you 
wouldn’t come back was because you were angry 
at what papa said that day, but the other day 
Priscilla Pixton, a friend of mine, said something 
that made me think perhaps that wasn’t the only 
reason. Oh, Horace darling, if what she thinks 
is true, and if you are really staying away be- 
cause of that thing you did to me, please, please 
come home just as soon as you can. I know you 
didn’t mean to do it, and I love you every single 
bit as much as I used to. Besides, you needn’t 
be sorry any more, because I’m ever so much 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


79 

better than I was, and all the doctors say I shall 
be quite well again in another year or two. You 
don’t know how I want you, Horace. Every day 
I ask God in my prayers to let you come home, 
and sometimes I feel as if I couldn’t bear it any 
longer without you. So if you ever do get this 
letter, please come home right away to 

“ Your loving little Sister, 

“ Fay Wylder.” 

“ Do you think it’s all right?” Fay inquired, 
anxiously, as Priscilla looked up from the letter, 
her eyes full of tears. 

“ It’s beautiful,” said Priscilla, tremulously. 
“ If your brother ever gets it, I’m quite sure he 
will come right home.” 

Fay drew a long sigh of satisfaction. 

“ Let’s send it right off,” she said. “ I’ll ad- 
dress it, and you can post it on your way home. 
I don’t suppose he will ever get it, but there’s just 
a chance, and you can’t think how much happier 
I feel.” 

So the letter was put into an envelope, and ad- 
dressed in a round, childish hand to “ Mr. Horace 
Wylder, General Post Office, New York City,” 
and when Priscilla went home that afternoon she 
dropped it into the nearest letter box. 


80 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

Miss Collins went out that evening to do a 
little Christmas shopping. Affairs at the doll 
shop were so prosperous that she felt at liberty to 
indulge in just a little extravagance, for, like 
Fay, she did not approve of giving “ just useful 
things.” So Priscilla was not invited to accom- 
pany her on this expedition, and the little girl 
sat down in the kitchen to study her lessons, while 
Mr. Jones read the evening paper. 

It was very quiet for some time after Miss 
Collins went out, but at last Priscilla, having 
finished her lessons, looked up to find her com- 
panion no longer reading, but gazing straight be- 
fore him, with such a sad, wistful look in his blue 
eyes that she felt a sudden longing to comfort 
him. But it is not easy to comfort a person when 
one has no idea why he is unhappy, so she was 
obliged to content herself with remarking cheer- 
fully— 

“ Isn’t it lovely there are only three more days 
till Christmas ? ” 

“ Lovely,” Mr. Jones repeated, with a slight 
start. “ Why, yes, I suppose it is for some peo- 
ple. I believe I thought Christmas a very ex- 
citing time when I was your age.” 

“ I think it’s the most beautiful time in the 
whole year,” said Priscilla. “ I don’t believe you 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 8l 

are really very much older than I am/’ she added, 
with a critical glance at the sad young face be- 
fore her. 

“ I was twenty last month,” said Mr. Jones, 
smiling. 

“ Twenty is pretty young, I think,” remarked 
Priscilla, with decision. “ Auntie is forty-six, 
and she doesn’t feel a bit too old to enjoy Christ- 
mas. Then there are the Wylders; Mr. Wylder 
has gray hair, and Miss Nanny doesn’t look very 
young, but they’re just as interested as they can 
be about the tree and the dinner for the poor 
children. The tree is to be at five o’clock on 
Christmas Eve, and the dinner at six. They were 
decorating the hall with holly and evergreens 
this afternoon, and it’s going to look lovely when 
it’s finished. Fay is to lie on the parlor sofa, 
facing the door, so she can see everything, and 
when they go down to dinner in the basement, 
she is to be carried down there, too. I’m so glad 
it’s all to be on Christmas Eve, because, you 
know, auntie and I are going to spend Christmas 
Day with some old friends of hers from Bucks- 
port. What are you going to do on Christmas, 
Mr. Jones? ” 

“ I don’t know, I’m sure ; I hadn’t thought 
about it. I suppose I shall stay at home as usual, 


82 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

as I haven’t any friends to invite me to trees or 
dinners.” 

The young man spoke rather bitterly, and 
Priscilla’s bright face clouded. 

“ Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said. “ I wish you 
were coming with us. The Bassets are very 
kind. Perhaps if auntie asked Mrs. Basset, she 
would invite you, too.” 

Mr. Jones smiled, but shook his head. 

“ You are very good to bother about me,” he 
said, “ but I shouldn’t like to intrude on a family 
party. Don’t worry; I shall get on well enough, 
I daresay.” 

But Priscilla was not satisfied. She could not 
bear the idea that, while she was so happy and 
merry, someone she knew and liked should be 
alone and neglected on Christmas Day. 

“ Did you have a nice time last Christmas ? ” 
she inquired, anxiously. 

“ Not exactly. I was in Chicago then, and 
rather down on my luck. I remember that I 
went to bed that night feeling rather hungry, 
so you see I have something to be thankful for 
after all, for there isn’t any danger of that hap- 
pening this year.” 

There was a short, awkward pause. Priscilla 
would have liked to tell him how sorry she was 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 83 

for him, but she did not feel at all sure whether 
Mr. Jones liked being condoled with, so being 
unable to think of anything else to say, she fell 
back on her favorite topic, the Wylders’ Christ- 
mas preparations. 

“ You know there are to be twenty-four little 
girls at the tree,” she said, “ and each one is to 
have a doll, besides some candy, and a useful 
present from Miss Wylder. The dolls are Fay's 
presents, and she and I have made almost all 
their clothes. You can't think how happy Fay 
is. She says if it wasn’t for one thing this would 
be the loveliest Christmas she ever had, even 
when she was well.” 

“ And what is that one thing? ” 

Mr. Jones asked the question abruptly. It 
was the first time he had ever expressed the 
slightest interest in Fay or her affairs. Priscilla 
blushed, suddenly remembering her friend’s ob- 
jection to gossip, but after all, she reflected, there 
could surely be no harm in simply answering Mr. 
Jones’s question. 

“ Her brother is away,” she said, not without 
a little embarrassment, “ and she is very anxious 
to have him come home.” 

“ Why doesn’t he come ? ” 

Mr. Jones did not look at her as he asked the 


84 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

question ; he was shading his face with his hand. 

Priscilla hesitated. 

“ I — I don’t know,” she said, slowly; “ he has 
been away a long .time, and I don’t think they 
know just where he is.” 

“ Did she tell you why he went away ? ” 

Priscilla was beginning to find these sharp, 
abrupt questions decidedly disconcerting. But 
she was an honorable little girl, and felt that she 
had no right to betray a confidence. 

So she answered without hesitation — 

“ She did tell me the reason, but she asked me 
not to talk about it. It’s a very sad story, and 
poor Fay is dreadfully unhappy over it all. She 
has written her brother a letter, and if he could 
only get it, I’m quite sure he would come home 
right away.” 

“ Written him a letter,” repeated Mr. Jones, 
and his voice sounded strangely low and hoarse. 
“ I thought you said she didn’t know where he 
was.” 

“ She doesn’t, that’s the trouble ; if she only 
knew that, it would be all right. She doesn’t 
even know that he is in New York at all, but we 
think that there is just a chance that he may be, 
and so she directed her letter to the General Post 
Office. A friend of auntie’s sent a letter there 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 85 
\ 

once, when she didn’t know the right address, 
and auntie got it after a while, though not for 
some time. This was such a beautiful letter; I 
do wish Fay’s brother could get it.” 

Mr. Jones rose abruptly. 

“ I’m tired,” he said, still speaking in the same 
low, unsteady voice ; “ I think I will go to bed.” 
And without another word he walked out of the 
room, and Priscilla heard his own door close 
behind him. 

“ What a queer person Mr. Jones is,” the little 
girl said to herself, wonderingly. “ I’m afraid 
he is very unhappy about something. Perhaps 
all his family are dead, and he doesn’t like Christ- 
mas, because it reminds him of the good times 
he used to have at home.” And then Priscilla 
took up a book that Fay had lent her, and had 
soon forgotten all about their puzzling boarder 
in the interest of a fascinating story. 


CHAPTER VI 


T HERE were a great many customers at 
the doll shop next day, and Miss Col- 
lins had her hands full waiting on them 
all. When Priscilla came home from school 
there was far too much to be done to leave any 
time for a visit to the Wylders’ that afternoon. 
She was busy in the shop until nearly six o’clock 
— Miss Collins hired a boy to carry home the 
parcels — and she and her aunt had just gone 
into the kitchen to prepare supper, when the lat- 
ter remarked in a tone of surprise — 

“ Who in the world can that be coming up 
the stairs two steps at a time? Not Mr. Jones, 
I’m sure, for he never runs up like that.” 

Before Priscilla could answer there was a tap 
at the door, and Mr. Jones himself appeared on 
the threshold. Mr. Jones! but could it really 
be the boarder? Surely neither Miss Collins nor 
Priscilla had ever seen the young man look like 
that before; his blue eyes were actually dancing 
with joy. 

“ May I come in, Miss Collins ? ” he asked, 
86 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 87 

smiling, and there was a new ring in his voice, 
too. 

“ To be sure you may,” returned Miss Collins, 
heartily, “ but seems to me you look as if you’d 
met with some good fortune.” 

“ Good fortune,” Mr. Jones repeated, and 
though he looked so happy, his voice trembled. 
“ I should rather think I had. I’m going home 
for Christmas.” 

Miss Collins walked straight up to the young 
man and kissed him. 

“ My dear boy,” she said, her kind eyes full 
of tears, “ I haven’t been so glad of anything 
in I don’t know when. I’m old enough to be 
your mother, and — and God bless you. Now 
run along and leave Priscilla and me to get 
supper.” 

It was a very happy party that sat down to 
supper in the little kitchen that evening. Mr. 
Jones did not talk very much, but it only needed 
a glance at his altered face to assure his com- 
panions that his happiness was genuine, and that 
a great weight of some kind had been lifted 
from his mind. Miss Collins, too, was very 
happy, for was not the doll shop prospering be- 
yond her highest expectations, and was she not 
going to open a bank account again next month ? 


88 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

As for Priscilla, it was happiness for her just to 
look from one to the other of her friends, and 
remember that there were only two more days 
till Christmas. Mr. Jones did not offer any 
further explanation of what had happened, and 
Miss Collins was too kind and tactful to ask for 
information that was not voluntarily given. But 
as the young man was bidding them good-night 
she inquired kindly — 

“ When do you expect to start ? ” 

Mr. Jones looked puzzled. 

“ I don’t understand,” he said ; “ start for 
where ? ” 

“ Why, for your home, of course. Didn’t 
you tell us you were going home for Christ- 
mas ? ” 

“ I think I shall go to-morrow,” Mr. Jones 
answered, quietly, “ but I haven’t quite decided 
at what time.” 

“ I wouldn’t keep my folks waiting if I were 
you; I suppose they’re expecting you.” 

“ Not exactly,” the young man answered, re- 
luctantly ; “ they don’t know I’m coming, but I 
have received a letter which — well, which 
changes a good many things.” 

Miss Collins asked no more questions, and Mr. 
Jones soon retired to his room, leaving his 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 89 

friends to speculate over his good fortune for 
the rest of the evening. 

“ I wonder where his home is,” said Priscilla, 
“ and if he’s got any brothers and sisters. If 
he has, won’t they be glad to see him ! O dear,” 
and Priscilla’s sentence ended in a sigh. 

“ What are you 4 O dearing ’ about ? ” Miss 
Collins inquired in surprise. 

“ I was only thinking of something,” said 
Priscilla, slowly. “ I wish I could tell you, but 
Fay asked me not to. It’s about her brother 
who is away, and I was thinking how very happy 
she would be if only he could come home for 
Christmas.” 

There was no school next morning, as the 
Christmas vacation began that day; but Priscilla 
was up early, for there was the shop to be dusted 
and put in order before breakfast, and she hoped 
to be able to spend an hour with Fay before the 
rush of business began. She found Miss Collins 
and Mr. Jones together in the kitchen, evidently 
in earnest conversation. They both stopped 
talking when she came in, but she noticed with 
surprise that Miss Collins’s eyes were red as if 
she had been crying. 

“ Is anything the matter, auntie?” she in- 


90 


•PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


quired anxiously, when Mr. Jones had left the 
room after wishing her a kind good-morning. 

“ No, dear, nothing at all,” Miss Collins an- 
swered promptly. “ Mr. Jones has been telling me 
something about his troubles, a — well, the fact 
is, I was a little upset, that’s all. He’s had a 
hard time, poor young fellow, but he’s a good 
boy, just as I always said he was.” 

Priscilla longed to ask more questions, but 
just then Mr. Jones came back, and there was no 
time for any further conversation. 

“ I guess you’d better go round to the Wyl- 
ders’ this morning,” Miss Collins remarked at 
breakfast. “ It’s likely to be a busy day in the 
shop, and I can spare you easier in the morning 
than in the afternoon.” 

Priscilla looked pleased. 

“ I should like to go for a little while,” she 
said. “ We’ve nearly finished with the dolls’ 
dresses, and I’m afraid Fay will be disappointed 
if I’m not there to help with the last ones.” 

“ Very well, go along, but I don’t believe you’ll 
need to stay a great while.” Miss Collins smiled, 
and glanced significantly at Mr. Jones as she 
spoke, but Priscilla did not notice the glance. 

Fay greeted her friend joyfully, and, some- 
what to Priscilla’s surprise, did not reproach her 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


91 

for her absence on the previous day. She 
seemed quieter and more subdued than usual, and 
Priscilla noticed that her eyes, like Miss Collins’s, 
looked as if she had been crying. She made no 
remark on the subject, however, and Priscilla 
asked no questions. 

“ Pm so glad about something that has hap- 
pened,” Priscilla said, as the two little girls 
stitched away busily. “You remember Mr. 
Jones, the young gentleman you sent the book 
and grapes to? ” 

“ Oh, yes. He never sent that book back, by 
the way, and I should like to have it some time, 
because it belonged to Horace. His name is 
written in it.” 

“ I’ll ask him for it,” said Priscilla ; “ he must 
have forgotten. The thing I’m so glad about is 
that he’s going home for Christmas.” 

“ Where is his home ? ” Fay inquired with 
interest. 

“ I don’t know ; he didn’t tell us that ; at least, 
I think perhaps he did tell auntie this morning, 
but I didn’t hear. He hasn’t been home for a 
long time, and I think he is very unhappy about 
something, but last night he came in looking so 
different, and then he told us that he was going 
home for Christmas. I was so glad, because he 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


92 

expected to spend the day all by himself, and it 
seems dreadful to think of anyone being alone 
on Christmas, He says he got a letter that 
changed a great many things.” 

Fay sighed, and a look of pain came into her 
face. 

“ I told papa about that letter I wrote to 
Horace,” she said, softly. “ I didn’t intend to 
tell, but Aunt Nanny went out to dinner last 
night, and papa came up to sit with me. He 
seemed so quiet and sad, and he began talking 
about Horace of his own accord, a thing he 
hardly ever does. He said he had been trying 
very hard to find him, but he was in despair 
about it. Then I couldn’t help telling about the 
letter. He wasn’t a bit angry; he said he was 
glad I wrote it, but — but he doesn’t think there 
is the least chance of Horace’s ever getting it.” 

“ I’m so sorry,” said Priscilla, sympathetically ; 
“ I didn’t believe there was much chance, but still 
he might, you know.” 

“ Yes, he might,” repeated Fay, her face 
brightening a little, “ but I couldn’t help being 
dreadfully disappointed when papa seemed so 
sure. I wonder if your Mr. Jones’s family will 
be half as glad to see him as we should all be to 
see Horace ? ” 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


93 


“ I don’t know/’ said Priscilla. “ He looks 
very happy, but I can’t think what made auntie 
cry when he talked to her this morning. She 
had been crying, I know, and she said poor Mr. 
Jones had had a hard time.” 

Fay had no suggestion to offer on the subject, 
and they worked away in silence for a few 
minutes. Then Fay said rather impatiently — 

“I wonder where Aunt Nanny can be? She 
said she would come and help us.” 

“ Perhaps someone has come to see her,” Pris- 
cilla suggested. 

“ Well, I hope whoever it is will go away soon, 
for I want to show her this doll’s hat. I can’t 
quite decide just where to put the bow.” 

At that moment the door opened, and Miss 
Wylder herself came in. Both children turned 
to greet her. 

“ Oh, Aunt Nanny, I’m glad you’ve come,” 
began Fay ; “ I want — why, auntie, what is the 
matter — what makes you look so — so queer?” 

Miss Wylder bent down and kissed her little 
niece before she answered. Then she said 
gently — 

“ There is nothing the matter, my darling, 
only I have had a visitor; someone I was very 
glad to see.” 


94 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


“Who was it?” Fay inquired, regarding her 
aunt with eager, curious eyes. “ Was it some- 
body I know ? ” 

“ It is somebody who is very anxious to see 
you, dear — somebody I know you will be glad 
to see.” 

“ Aunt Nanny, you don’t mean — it isn’t ” 

Fay did not finish the sentence. She had raised 
herself on her elbow, and was looking eagerly 
toward the open door. 

“ Yes, darling, it is,” said Aunt Nanny, laugh- 
ing and crying both together. 

Fay uttered a loud, joyful cry. “ Horace, my 
own dear, darling Horace ! ” While at the same 
moment there was a simultaneous cry from Pris- 
cilla. “Mr. Jones, why, Mr. Jones!” A tall 
young man had come quickly into the room, and, 
without uttering a word, had dropped down on 
his knees by the bedside, and taken Fay in his 
arms. 


CONCLUSION 


E VERYONE agreed that the Christmas 
which followed was the happiest they 
had ever spent. Even Horace Wylder, 
though the look of sorrow remained in his blue 
eyes whenever they rested on his little invalid sis- 
ter, was happier than he had been in many a long 
day, and the reports of his father and aunt as to 
Fay’s great improvement, and the doctor’s con- 
fident assurances of her ultimate recovery, did a 
great deal to cheer and comfort him. As to Fay 
herself, she was supremely happy. To have her 
adored brother at home again, to know that it 
was her own letter which had brought him, and, 
above all, to be assured that all was forgiven be- 
tween Elorace and his father — what more could 
anyone wish for in this world? Priscilla rejoiced 
heartily in the good fortune of her friends, and 
so did kind Miss Collins. Horace had told his 
family a good many things about the people at 
the doll shop, and Priscilla and her aunt had won 
some very true friends in the Wylders. 

The Christmas party was a great success, and 


95 


9 6 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

twenty-four very happy little girls went home that 
night, each one hugging a brand new doll lov- 
ingly to her breast. Priscilla and Horace both 
made themselves useful in distributing the gifts, 
and waiting on the children at dinner, and Fay 
watched proceedings from her sofa, and declared 
that she was sure she felt very much as Carol 
Bird did at her Christmas party. 

When it was all over, and Horace had carried 
his sister back to her room, Fay insisted on Pris- 
cilla’s remaining for a little talk before going 
home. 

“ There isn’t any hurry, you know,” she urged, 
“ because Horace is going with you to wish that 
nice Miss Collins a Merry Christmas. He’s going 
to ask her to come to see me next Sunday. I 
want to thank her myself for being so good to 
him when his foot was hurt, and I know I shall 
love her.” 

“ Pm sure you will,” said Priscilla, with 
conviction. 

“ Hasn’t it all been just perfect?” Fay went 
on ; “ the tree and the dinner and everything. I’m 
sure no other Christmas was ever quite so nice. 
The children all did seem to love their things, 
didn’t they ? Let me look at your ring again ; it 
is pretty, isn’t it ? ” 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


97 

“ It’s beautiful,” said Priscilla, gazing with 
delighted eyes at the pretty gold ring on her 
finger — the first she had ever possessed. 

“ I wanted you to have one present that wasn’t 
useful, so I got Aunt Nanny to buy it for me, 
but now there are more presents coming. Just 
wait till the morning and you’ll see.” And Fay 
looked so delightfully mysterious that Priscilla 
couldn’t help clapping her hands in joyful an- 
ticipation of the morrow. 

“ There’s one thing I want to tell you,” said 
Fay, more gravely, “ and I think it makes me 
happier than all the rest. It really was my letter 
that brought Horace home. If you hadn’t told 
him about it, and if he hadn’t gone to the post 
office for it, he never would have come home at 
all. It wasn’t because of what papa said that he 
stayed away; it was just because he had hurt me 
without meaning to. I really think it’s rather 
foolish of him to feel so badly about it, but per- 
haps if I’d hurt somebody, even without meaning 
to, I should feel badly, too. He was angry at 
first, and he stayed away for several weeks, but 
then he was sorry and ashamed, and was coming 
home to ask papa to forgive him. He did really 
come as far as the house, but the doctor’s carriage 
was at the door, and when he asked the colored 


98 PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

man, who happened to be washing the sidewalk, 
who was ill, he told him about me. It almost 
broke poor Horace’s heart. He was afraid to 
come home then, so he went away again, and if 
it hadn’t been for my letter he would never have 
come back.” 

“ Oh, isn’t it lovely that you wrote it ? ” cried 
Priscilla, joyfully. “ I should think you’d be so 
glad you would feel like flying.” 

“ So I am,” said Fay, “ and papa and Aunt 
Nanny are very glad, too. The best of it all is 
that Horace is going to stay at home all the time 
now, and go into papa’s office, just as he wanted 
to at first. Oh, here comes Aunt Nanny. Must 
Priscilla really go so soon, auntie ? ” 

“ Priscilla will come again very soon,” Miss 
Wylder answered, smiling, “ and it is high time 
little tired girls went to sleep.” 

Fay looked for a moment as if she would like 
to object, but changed her mind, and instead put 
up her face to Priscilla for a kiss. 

“ Good-night,” she said, “ and Merry Christ- 
mas. Give my love to Miss Collins, and be sure 
you both come to see me on Sunday.” 

Priscilla promised, and then she hurried down- 
stairs to the hall where Horace was waiting for 


PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 


99 

her. But before she left the house Miss Wylder 
drew her to her side and kissed her. 

“ Good-night/’ she said. “ Come and see us 
whenever you can; you will always be welcome, 
and I don’t know of anyone I would rather have 
as a friend for my little Fay,” 

“ I hope all the people in New York are 
as happy as we are to-night, don’t you, Mr. 
Horace?” she said as she walked by Horace’s 
side through the brightly lighted streets. And 
the young man echoed the wish right heartily. 

LOfft 





Lulu’s Penance 



Lulu’s Penance 


CHAPTER I 

E VERYONE agreed that Lulu Bell was a 
remarkably good child. She had begun 
life by being a remarkably good baby. 
When other babies cried, she laughed and crowed, 
and even when she was hungry, or was disturbed 
in the middle of a comfortable nap to be shown 
to visitors, her temper never appeared to be 
ruffled, as is frequently the case with babies of 
a less amiable disposition. 

“ There really never was such a baby as yours, 
Mrs. Bell,” mamma’s admiring friends would ex- 
claim, as they bent to kiss the rosy, smiling little 
face, while the soft baby hands patted their 
cheeks. “ As a rule, a baby is apt to be — well, 
just a little troublesome, you know, especially 
while it is teething, but this one — oh, you little 
darling, I do believe you are an angel sent straight 
down from Heaven!” 

And though mamma tried to smile deprecat- 
ingly, and murmur something about baby’s being 
103 


104 


LULU’S PENANCE 


so very healthy — which might account for her 
good nature — in her secret heart she quite agreed 
with her friends. 

Almost before she had learned to walk Lulu 
had begun to understand that she was an extraor- 
dinary child, and to be proud of the fact. “ Lulu 
dood dirl; Lulu mamma’s own dood ’ittle dirl,” 
she would lisp, looking up into her mother’s face 
with a satisfied smile. “ Yes indeed you are, my 
precious! ” mamma would answer, gathering her 
darling up in her arms, and almost smothering 
her with kisses. 

She was an only child, and perhaps that fact 
accounted in a measure for the adoration that was 
lavished upon her by father, mother, auntie, and 
nurse. 

“ She’s just no trouble at all,” Mollie, the nurse- 
maid, would exclaim when in conversation with 
other nursemaids in the park ; “ I don’t think she 
knows what it means to be naughty.” 

And the other nurses would sigh, and look 
with envy at the pretty child with big blue eyes 
and beautiful golden curls, holding demurely to 
Mollie’s hand, or hugging her big doll to her 
breast with motherly tenderness, and then at their 
own more troublesome charges, who would insist 
on digging in the dirt with their best clothes on, 


LULU’S PENANCE 


105 

and getting into half a dozen scrapes in the course 
of an afternoon. 

At Kindergarten it was the same as at home ; 
everybody praised Lulu, and she soon became the 
show pupil. 

“ I can’t see why people ever want to be 
naughty,” she remarked gravely to her mother 
one day at the age of five and a half. “ It’s very 
much nicer to be good and have everybody love 
you. Don’t you think so, mamma ? ” 

By the time she was six she had already begun 
to make plans for her future career. 

“ I am going to teach all the bad people in the 
world to be good,” she announced, to the intense 
admiration of her mother and aunt. “ I shall 
talk to all the bad people in the street who say 
naughty words, and I shall give Bibles to them, 
and make them come to my Sunday School.” 

“ What a precious little monkey ! ” exclaimed 
mamma, half laughing, as Lulu left the room 
after delivering this remarkable sentiment. “ I 
wonder if there ever was another child quite like 
her.” 

“ Of course there wasn’t,” responded poor, 
blind Aunt Daisy with decision ; “ she’s an angel, 
that’s what she is.” 

Lulu heard both remarks, having paused on 


10 6 LULU’S PENANCE 

her way up to the nursery just to hear what 
mamma and Aunt Daisy were talking about, and 
she smiled to herself, a very well satisfied, rather 
conceited little smile. 

Lulu was nine, and Kindergarten was a thing 
of the past. She went to a regular school now, 
from nine till half-past twelve, every day except 
Saturday, and Mrs. Bell had just received a call 
from the teacher, who had come for the express 
purpose of telling her what a very clever, attrac- 
tive little girl she had. 

“ She will be an example to the whole school,” 
she remarked complacently, as she rose to go. 
“ I really don’t know, Mrs. Bell, how to thank 
you enough for sending her to us.” 

Mrs. Bell was of course deeply impressed by 
this compliment, and so was Aunt Daisy, but 
Dr. Bell, when he heard of it, looked a little 
grave. 

“ I hope they won’t turn the child’s head,” he 
said ; “ I should be very sorry to have her made 
into a little prig.” 

* A little prig — oh, Charlie, how can you ? ” 
exclaimed Aunt Daisy, with rising indignation. 

“ Well, she has a pretty clear idea of her own 
perfection, already. I don’t know how it is with 
girls, but I know that in a boys’ school there are 


LULU’S PENANCE 


107 

few things more cordially detested than a model 
pupil.” 

“ As if anyone could detest our Lulu,” Aunt 
Daisy said, still indignant, and mamma added : 

“ She is so good and sweet and generous that 
no one could possibly help loving her. Mrs. 
Hunt told me the other day, when I met her in 
the street, that Minnie simply worships Lulu.” 

“ Nevertheless, I must confess that I shouldn’t 
object to see Lulu indulge in an occasional piece 
of mischief,” Dr. Bell maintained, “ if for no 
other reason than to convince the child that she 
is not faultless.” 

This conversation took place in the evening, 
after Lulu had gone to bed, and it was on the 
very next day that the events occurred about 
which I am going to tell in this story. 

Lulu came down to breakfast, her mind full 
of a new and wonderful project — a project of 
which she and her bosom friend, Minnie Hunt, 
had been talking for weeks, but which until now 
had been kept a profound secret. It was only 
yesterday afternoon that Minnie had finally 
yielded to Lulu’s oft-repeated entreaty that she 
might be allowed to tell papa and mamma about 
it, and now she was only waiting an opportunity 
to unfold her grand scheme. 


108 LULU'S PENANCE 

“ I’ve decided what I’m going to do when I 
grow up,” she remarked suddenly, taking ad- 
vantage of a pause in the conversation of her 
elders. “ I’m going to China to teach the 
heathen.” 

“ To teach the heathen,” repeated mamma and 
Aunt Daisy both together. Papa said nothing, 
but his eyes began to twinkle. 

“ Yes, to be a missionary, you know. Minnie’s 
uncle is one, and he has converted a great many 
people. Mrs. Hunt was telling us about it the 
other day. She says she is quite willing Min- 
nie should go, if she finds that is her voca- 
tion, and I shall go with her. It will be very 
interesting. We shall live in tents and preach 
to the, heathen, and cook out of doors as they do 
at a picnic. We may have to suffer, but Mrs. 
Hunt says we mustn’t mind that, because it will 
be in the good cause. She knew a young lady 
who went when she was eighteen, and died of a 
fever the next year. It was very beautiful — all 
the heathen loved her so, and they cried around 
her grave. I shall be eighteen in ten years — no, 
nine years, I mean — and then I can go.” 

“ And are we to have nothing to say on the 
subject?” Dr. Bell asked, regarding his little 
daughter with a rather amused expression. 



£ ‘ Well, I don't think we need worry about it just yet 

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LULU’S PENANCE 


109 


Lulu looked somewhat disturbed. 

“ Oh, papa, but you would let me go ! It 
would be such a beautiful thing to convert the 
heathen, and I would write you such interesting 
letters all about it. And perhaps they might talk 
about me in the newspapers.” 

Papa and mamma both laughed outright, but 
Aunt Daisy said a little wistfully: 

“ Don’t you think perhaps you might miss us 
all sometimes?” 

It was all nonsense, of course, but somehow 
she never could bear to hear her adored little 
niece talk about the time when she should be 
grown up, and might go away and leave them. 

“ I suppose I might just a little at first,” said 
Lulu, doubtfully, “ but I should be so busy con- 
verting people that I shouldn’t have much time 
to think about it. Minnie has several books about 
missionaries, and they never say anything about 
missing their relations.” 

“ Well, I don’t think we need worry about it 
just yet,” said Dr. Bell, laying his hand tenderly 
on the little curly head beside him. “ Ten years 
is a good while to look ahead, and we may all 
change our minds in the meantime.” 

“ Don’t you like to have me do good to people, 
papa ? ” Lulu inquired, looking up into her father’s 


no 


LULU’S PENANCE 


face with her big solemn eyes. Something in 
his tone had struck her as not quite serious enough 
considering the importance of her news. 

“ Yes, indeed, I do — I like nothing better in 
the world — but it isn’t always necessary to go to 
China in order to do good. We can sometimes 
do just as much right here in New York City, 
and in our own homes, as anywhere else.” 

“ But there aren’t any people to be converted 
here,” persisted Lulu. 

“ Well, perhaps not exactly, but converting 
people isn’t the only way of doing good in the 
world, you know. There are other ways — help- 
ing mamma, and reading to Aunt Daisy, for 
instance.” 

Lulu’s eyes drooped and the color came into 
her face. Reading to Aunt Daisy was one of 
the things about which she was not always very 
faithful, not even as faithful as papa supposed, 
for Aunt Daisy would sooner have cut off her 
right hand than have uttered one word of com- 
plaint against her little niece. All at once 
Minnie’s scheme did not seem quite so grand. 

She had an unbounded admiration for her 
father, and his approval was very necessary to 
the success of any scheme. 

Minnie Hunt’s home was only a few doors 


LULU’S PENANCE 


ill 


from the Bells’, and when Lulu came out half 
an hour later she found her friend waiting for 
her on the sidewalk, and the two little girls walked 
to school together as usual, accompanied by Lulu’s 
maid. 

“ Well, did you tell? ” was Minnie’s first eager 
question as they walked down the avenue, and 
Lulu waved good-by to mamma standing in the 
parlor window. 

“ Yes,” said Lulu shortly. 

“ What did they say?” 

“ Oh, nothing very much,” Lulu admitted with 
some reluctance. “ Papa and mamma laughed 
and Aunt Daisy looked sorry.” 

“ But didn’t they think it a lovely idea ? ” 

“ N — no — at least not exactly ; I don’t think 
they quite understood how serious it was. Papa 
said ten years was a long time, and that one could 
do good to people without being a mission- 
ary.” 

“ Pm afraid what my mother says is true,” 
said Minnie solemnly. 

“ What was that?” Lulu inquired, with par- 
donable curiosity. Minnie had a way of pursing 
up her lips and looking mysterious about things 
which was decidedly annoying sometimes. 

“ You’ll be mad if I tell you.” 


LULU’S PENANCE 


112 

“ No, I won’t.” 

“ Honest? ” 

“ Yes, honest.” 

“ And you won’t tell anyone — I don’t think 
mother would like it if she knew I told.” 

“ Perhaps you ought not to,” said Lulu, who 
was really a very conscientious little girl. “ I 
won’t tell anyone, though.” 

“ Well,” said Minnie, ignoring the first part 
of her friend’s remark, “ my mother said the 
other day that you were a very nice little girl, 
and she liked to have me go with you, but that 
she was afraid your family were very worldly 
people.” 

“ What does worldly mean ? ” 

Minnie hesitated. 

“ I’m not quite sure, but I think it means not 
religious, and caring about clothes, and things 
like that.” 

“ But it isn’t wrong to like pretty clothes, I’m 
sure it isn’t,” said Lulu, her blue eyes opening 
very wide at this new idea. 

“ I guess it must be, at least it says so in books. 
I’ll tell you what, Lulu; you might try to con- 
vert your family. You wouldn’t have to wait 
to be grown up for that; Elsie Dinsmore did it, 
and she was only eight.” 


LULU’S PENANCE 


113 

“ Who is Elsie Dinsmore? ” 

“ Oh, she was a most beautiful person — I guess 
she was about the best girl that ever lived. There 
are ever so many books about her, but I’ve only 
got the first one. She read her Bible ’most all 
day long and she wouldn’t do things on Sundays. 
Her father was a very wicked man, but she 
converted him. Oh, it’s a beautiful book — I’ll 
lend it to you after school, if you’d like to read 
it.” 

“ But my papa isn’t a wicked man,” said Lulu, 
reddening. 

“No, of course; not like Elsie Dinsmore’s 
father, but you know he doesn’t always go to 
church.” 

“ That’s because he’s a doctor, and has to go 
and see sick people sometimes on Sunday morn- 
ings. He always goes with mamma and Aunt 
Daisy when he can.” 

“ Oh, yes, I suppose he’s all right, and you 
know you promised you wouldn’t be mad if I told 
you what my mother said.” 

“ I’m not mad,” maintained Lulu, swallowing 
down a big lump in her throat. 

“ Well, you know that even if people are pretty 
good in most things they can be converted some- 
times. You can’t think how Elsie Dinsmore’s 


LULU’S PENANCE 


114 

father loved her after he got converted. He gave 
her the most beautiful presents, and every single 
day he was doing something to make her happy. 
But look, here comes Gertie Rossiter; let’s run 
and meet her.” 


CHAPTER II 


J ANE wants to go to the dentist’s this after- 
noon,” said Mrs. Bell that day at luncheon, 
“ so you will have to stay in the house, 
Lulu, for there will be no one to take you out, 
and Aunt Daisy and I are going to make calls.” 

“ I don’t care,” said Lulu cheerfully; “ I’ve got 
a lovely book to read; Minnie lent it to me. I 
stopped at her house for it coming home from 
school.” 

“ Well, don’t read all the afternoon ; you know 
it isn’t good for your eyes, and I like to have you 
play some of the time. You had better let me 
see the book before you begin it — I don’t always 
quite approve of Minnie’s taste in stories.” 

“ Oh, mamma, this is a beautiful book — it is 
called ‘ Elsie Dinsmore,’ and Minnie says Elsie 
Dinsmore was the very best person who ever 
lived.” 

“ Elsie Dinsmore,” laughed Aunt Daisy ; “ I 
remember I used to be very fond of that young 
woman myself once upon a time, though I think 
she was rather a little prig. But I’m afraid I 


ii 6 


LULU’S PENANCE 


won’t be able to make calls with you this after- 
noon, Jessie. I had a note from that tiresome 
editor this morning, and he says he must have 
my story by the end of next week, so I shall have 
to stay at home and work hard all the afternoon.” 

“ Too bad, for I wanted you to go with me 
to Mrs. Carrol’s tea, but I suppose it can’t be 
helped. I shall have to leave you and Lulu to 
take care of each other, for there are some calls 
I really must make to-day.” 

“ I fancy we can manage to look after each 
other, can’t we, Lulu ? ” said Aunt Daisy, smiling. 

“ Of course,” said Lulu, grandly. “ I shall be 
quite busy reading, but you can call me if you 
want anything.” 

Both ladies smiled — they had not yet grown 
accustomed to thinking of Lulu as anything but 
a baby, and her odd, old-fashioned little airs were 
very amusing. 

So the matter was settled, and when at three 
o’clock Mrs. Bell left the house, her last words 
to her little daughter were a caution not to read 
too long, and to be sure to take good care of 
Aunt Daisy. 

Lulu, who was already curled up in a corner 
of the library sofa, deeply absorbed in the for- 
tunes of the interesting Elsie Dinsmore, looked 


LULU’S PENANCE 


ii 7 

up from her book just long enough to utter a 
rather abstracted “ Yes, mamma,” and by the 
time her mother had closed the front door behind 
her, had forgotten everything else in the world 
outside the pages of her fascinating story. 

At half-past three the doorbell rang; Lulu 
heard it and uttered a little impatient sigh. 

“ Oh, dear ! I do hope it isn’t anybody to see 
me — I really can’t be disturbed this afternoon.” 

In another moment Ellen, the waitress, ap- 
peared at the library door. 

“ It’s the two little Williams girls to see you, 
Miss Lulu; they say if you’re going to be at 
home all the afternoon, their maid can leave them 
for an hour.” 

With a feeling of intense disappointment, Lulu 
rose and closed her book. Belle and Nan Wil- 
liams were very nice girls, but how provoking 
of them to come just now when Elsie Dinsmore’s 
father was being so very unkind to her, and it 
would be so interesting to read on and find out 
what happened next. But Lulu was a very polite 
little girl, and had very fine ideas about showing 
hospitality to visitors, so her greeting to her two 
little friends, if less enthusiastic than usual, was 
sufficiently cordial to satisfy Belle and Nan Wil- 
liams, and she led the way upstairs to the sunny 


Ii8 LULU’S PENANCE 

back room on the third floor, which had been 
her nursery ever since she was a baby. 

“ What’s that book ? ” inquired Belle, as the 
three little girls mounted the stairs together. 

“ It’s ‘ Elsie Dinsmore,’ ” said Lulu, who was 
still clasping her treasure in her hand. “ It’s a 
beautiful book — Minnie Hunt lent it to me. Per- 
haps ” — with a sudden hope — “you might like 
to have me read some of it to you.” 

“ I don’t care very much about books,” Belle 
admitted ; “ I have to read in school every day, 
you know.” 

“ So do I ; but not stories like this. Don’t you 
like story-books at all ? ” 

“Not much; there are always so many other 
things I’d rather do. Oh, you’ve got some new 
parlor furniture for your baby-house. Isn’t it 
pretty ! ” 

Lulu laid down her book with a regretful sigh, 
and set about the task of entertaining her visitors. 

“ Minnie Hunt gave me that furniture for 
Christmas,” she explained ; “ she’s my most inti- 
mate friend, you know. • She’s much older than 
I am — nearly eleven — but we’re great friends.” 

“I know her; she wears awfully ugly hats,” 
exclaimed little Nan, who, being only seven and 
a half, was not always judicious in her remarks. 


LULU’S PENANCE 


1 19 

Lulu looked a little uncomfortable. She liked 
to have her friends admired in everything, but 
she could not deny the truth of Nan’s assertion. 

“ I think that’s because her mother is a very 
religious person,” she explained. “ She thinks 
it’s wrong to care about pretty clothes. She is 
very, very good, though, and so is Minnie. 
Minnie loves to go to Sunday School better than 
to do ’most anything else, and she’s going to be 
a missionary when she grows up.” 

“ I should think it would be very stupid to 
be a missionary,” Belle remarked, a little con- 
temptuously, and Nan inquired, by way of chang- 
ing the subject: 

“ What’s that funny clicking noise — I hear it 
all the time? ” 

“ That’s my Aunt Daisy’s typewriter,” Lulu 
replied ; “ she’s writing a story for a magazine 
— she writes lots of stories, and people say they’re 
charming, but they’re all for grown-up people.” 

“ Is she a real authoress ?” Belle inquired, 
deeply impressed by this piece of information. 

“ Yes, indeed — my Aunt Daisy is a very su- 
perior lady; I heard Jane tell the Rossiters’ nurse 
so the other day.” 

“And she’s blind, too, isn’t she?” said Nan 
in rather an awed voice. 


120 


LULU’S PENANCE 


“ Yes, she can’t see anything — not even the 
light — but I don’t believe she minds it so very 
much, because, you see, she’s used to it, and then 
everybody is so very good to her.” 

“ I suppose you do things for her sometimes, 
don’t you ? ” Belle suggested. 

“ Of course, I do; I’m very devoted to her, and 
she is to me. I read to her ev — that is, almost 
every day, and I hold her worsted and help her 
find things. She says she doesn’t know what 
she should ever do without me. I intend to 
take care of her always, unless I should go to 
China with Minnie to be a missionary. You see, 
I always have to be very devoted to Aunt Daisy, 
because I owe her so much.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” asked Belle. 

“ When I was a very little girl,” began Lulu, 
charmed at the prospect of having an interesting 
story to tell ; “ it was a long time ago ; I was 
only four. We were in the country, at Peaks 
Point — a place where we used to go in the sum- 
mer. Papa and mamma were away, and one 
night there was a dreadful fire. The whole 
house was burned up, and I would have been 
burned up, too, if it hadn’t been for Aunt Daisy. 
Katy (that was the nurse I had then, and she 
was really a very bad person indeed) was so 


LULU’S PENANCE 


121 


frightened that she ran away downstairs, and 
left me all alone. I was asleep, you know, and 
when I woke up there was a dreadful smoke, 
and I heard people screaming. I can’t remember 
much about it — I was so little — but I remember 
I was dreadfully frightened, and I called Katy, 
and she didn’t answer. Then Aunt Daisy came 
and picked me up in her arms, and told me not 
to be frightened. She had got out of the house 
all right, but when she found that I wasn’t with 
Katy, she rushed back, although the house was 
all burning terribly, and everyone told her she 
would be burned if she did it. She tried to carry 
me downstairs, but they were all on fire, so she 
took me to a window and a man came up on a 
ladder, and she gave me to him. He was coming 
back again for her, but the fire got worse, and 
she heard the people calling to her to jump out 
of the window, so she did, and hurt her head very 
badly, but she wasn’t burned.” 

“ What a very interesting thing,” said Belle ; 
“ it sounds just like a story out of a book, 
doesn’t it ? ” 

“ It is very interesting, indeed,” Lulu agreed, 
with pardonable pride, “ and that’s why I always 
have to be good to Aunt Daisy. Papa says I 
must love her better than anyone else in the 


122 


LULU’S PENANCE 


world except mamma. He talked very seriously 
to me about it one day, and there were tears in 
his eyes, too; I saw them. He said if I ever 
made Aunt Daisy unhappy, he was afraid he and 
mamma wouldn’t be able to love me.” 

“ I think I’m rather glad I haven’t got to be 
so very grateful to any of my relations,” said 
practical Belle, and Nan added rather impatiently : 

“Aren’t we going to play something?” 

“ Yes, of course,” said Lulu, suddenly remem- 
bering her duties as hostess. “ Just wait one 
minute while I go and ask Aunt Daisy if she 
wants anything. Jane is out, and mamma said 
I was to take care of her this afternoon.” 

Accordingly Lulu left the nursery, and crossing 
the hall, tapped lightly at her aunt’s closed door. 

“ Aunt Daisy, dear, do you want anything ? ” 

“ No, thank you, darling,” came the cheerful 
reply. “ I shall be busy writing for another 
hour. Have you visitors? I thought I heard 
voices.” 

“Yes, Belle and Nan Williams; we’re going 
to play in the nursery.” 

“ That’s right ; have a good time and make as 
much noise as you like. You won’t disturb 
me.” 

Lulu returned to her friends, and the three 


LULU’S PENANCE 


123 

little girls were soon in the midst of a delightful 
play with the dolls and the baby-house. 

For the first half-hour they played quietly 
enough, and all would have gone well had it 
not been that Lulu’s interesting reminiscences had 
inspired Nan with a new idea. 

“ Let’s play fire,” she suggested ; “ we’ll play 
the house is on fire, and rush in to save the 
children.” 

“ That will be lovely,” exclaimed Belle, and 
Lulu, although as a rule not particularly fond of 
noisy games, agreed very readily. 

Aunt Daisy, still busy at her typewriter, smiled 
to herself at the unusual sounds which reached 
her through the closed door. Shrill screams, 
scampering of little feet, and a great dragging 
about of articles over the floor. 

“ Bless the dear child,” she said ; “ it does my 
heart good to hear her romping for once.” 

It really was a most exciting play. Even Lulu 
forgot to be prim and dignified, and flew about 
with flying curls, and uttered shrieks of excite- 
ment quite as loud and shrill as those of either 
of her companions. When the dolls had all been 
successfully rescued from the flames, Nan sug- 
gested that they should endeavor to save the 
furniture as well. 


124 


LULU’S PENANCE 


“ We’ll play the hall is the street,” Belle sug- 
gested, “ and we can pile all the things out there.” 

All too quickly the moments flew, and just as 
Lulu’s cooking stove had been transported to a 
place of safety, the doorbell rang, and Ellen 
appeared to say that the Williams’ maid had 
come, and wished them to hurry, as it was getting 
late. 

“ What a bother,” exclaimed Belle ; “ we were 
having such fun. You must come to our house 
some afternoon, Lulu, and we’ll play fire again.” 

“ But, O dear, what a dreadful clutter we have 
made. I suppose your nurse will scold you dread- 
fully when she sees it.” 

“ Oh, Jane is very good-natured,” said Lulu 
airily ; “ she’s always nice and polite. Mollie, 
the nurse I had before, used to scold sometimes, 
but Jane never does.” 

Lulu accompanied her visitors down to the 
front door, and assured them she had enjoyed the 
afternoon very much, and hoped they would come 
again soon; but no sooner had the door closed 
after them than her thoughts reverted to Elsie 
Dinsmore, and she remembered with a feeling of 
satisfaction that it was not yet five o’clock, and 
she would have time to read for at least another 
half-hour before mamma came home. She flew 


LULU’S PENANCE 


125 

upstairs again, but at the head of the second flight 
she paused suddenly, quite shocked at the sight 
that met her gaze. 

All the furniture from the baby-house had been 
piled in a heap outside the nursery door, and 
several larger toys, such as the cooking stove, 
the doll’s carriage, and the wicker cradle, with 
her best baby doll in it, were all crowded into the 
small passage between the nursery and the stairs. 

For a moment Lulu hesitated ; her natural sense 
of neatness revolted at such confusion, and at 
another time she would not have been satisfied 
until she had at least made an effort to reduce 
the chaos into something like order. But there 
was that fascinating story, and only half an hour 
more to read. Jane would surely be back very 
soon, and she was so good-natured. Papa and 
mamma would not know, and as for Aunt Daisy, 
she had never been known to find fault about any- 
thing. Her conscience was not quite easy, how- 
ever, for she had frequently been warned against 
leaving her toys about, lest poor Aunt Daisy, not 
being able to see, might possibly trip over some- 
thing and be hurt. But Aunt Daisy was safe in 
her room; the typewriter was still clicking away 
busily. Jane would certainly be back long be- 
fore Aunt Daisy wanted to go down to dinner, 


126 


LULU’S PENANCE 


and even if not, she, Lulu, could guide her safely 
through the unusual confusion in the hall. So 
Lulu silenced conscience, and pushing the most 
cumbersome articles against the wall, she went 
back into the nursery, stationed herself in the 
window to catch the fading daylight, and in three 
minutes was once more deeply absorbed in the 
fortunes of her heroine. 

Ten minutes passed; the clock struck five. 
Then Aunt Daisy’s door opened and a voice 
called : 

“ Are you there, Lulu dear? ” 

“ Yes, Aunt Daisy,” Lulu’s voice answered, but 
her eyes were still on her book, and her thoughts 
were far away. 

“ What are you doing? ” 

“ Reading, Aunt Daisy.” 

“ Oh, very well. I was going to ask you to 
hold some worsted for me, but never mind; I’ll 
go down to the parlor and practice for a while 
before dinner.” 

No reply from Lulu — indeed, I doubt if she 
even heard the words, and all unconscious of 
danger, Aunt Daisy stepped out into the familiar 
passage. She knew her way about the house 
quite as well as anyone. She took half a dozen 
quick, firm steps in the direction of the stairs. 


LULU'S PENANCE 


1 27 

Then there was a sudden crash, a scream, and 
the sound of something rolling and bumping 
down, down, till it suddenly ceased, and every- 
thing was very still. 

With a scream quite as loud as poor Aunt 
Daisy’s own, Lulu had sprung to her feet, while 
“ Elsie Dinsmore ” fell face downward on the 
floor. She knew quite well what had happened 
— what must have happened — and for the first 
moment she was almost too frightened to move. 
How horribly still it was. Why didn’t Aunt 
Daisy call her, or even scream again? With 
a sudden determination to find out, she rushed 
out into the hall and peered over the banisters. 

Yes, it was as she had feared. On the mat 
at the foot of the stairs lay something all in a 
heap — something that did not move. 

“ Aunt Daisy — oh, Aunt Daisy ! ” cried the 
child, almost paralyzed with terror ; “ are you 
hurt? Don’t be very angry; I’m so dreadfully, 
dreadfully sorry — oh, won’t you please speak to 
me?” 

As if the sound of the little voice she loved so 
well had brought back the consciousness of which 
pain had for the moment deprived her, Aunt 
Daisy lifted her head. 

“ Don’t be frightened, my pet, it isn’t much ; 


128 


LULU’S PENANCE 


I shall be better in a moment. Come and help 
me to get up, and perhaps you could bring me a 
glass of water.” 

Lulu’s heart was throbbing in great frightened 
bounds, and her knees shook so that she could 
scarcely stand, but she managed somehow to 
reach the bottom of the stairs. But alas! Aunt 
Daisy’s efforts to rise were quite useless ; she only 
sank back with a sharp cry of pain, and with lips 
so white that poor Lulu — who had never in her 
life seen anyone faint — felt quite sure her aunt 
must be going to die. 

“ It’s my knee,” said Aunt Daisy in a very 
faint voice ; “ I’m afraid it’s broken. I can’t 
think how it happened — I must have tripped over 
something at the top of the stairs. Don’t cry 
so, Lulu, darling; you had better run and call 
someone.” 

“ Oh, Aunt Daisy, please, please let me do 
something for you,” sobbed conscience-smitten 
Lulu ; “ it was all my fault ; I left the things in 
the way — oh, I’m so sorry, so sorry.” 

“ Never mind, dear, you didn’t mean to do 
wrong; run and get me a glass of water, there’s 
a good child.” 

Away flew Lulu to the bathroom, returning 
in a moment with a mug filled with cold water, 


LULU’S PENANCE 


129 

which she held to her aunt’s lips. Aunt Daisy 
sipped a few drops, and a faint tinge of color crept 
back into her face. 

“ I shall be all right soon, I am sure,” she said, 
trying to smile. “ You mustn’t be so frightened, 
but — but, I can’t move just yet.” 

“ Perhaps if I rubbed your knee it might take 
the pain away,” Lulu suggested, catching des- 
perately at any ray of hope. “ You know 
mamma used to rub your foot after you hurt it 
in the mountains last summer.” 

“ I’m afraid I couldn’t bear to have it touched,” 
said Aunt Daisy, doubtfully, and Lulu saw with 
dismay that her face was growing very white 
again. “ But hark ! isn’t that your papa putting 
his key in the door? Oh, do call to him to come 
quick.” 

Next moment, Dr. Bell, returning from his 
day’s rounds, was greeted by the sight of his 
little daughter flying down the front stairs, with 
a pale, scared face and big, horror-stricken eyes, 
crying in agonized tones : 

“ Oh, papa, please come quick ! Aunt Daisy 
has fallen downstairs, and I think she’s killed, 
and it’s all my fault.” 


CHAPTER III 


I T was very dark in the nursery ; the clock on 
the mantel had just struck six. In other 
parts of the house were sounds of unusual 
confusion and excitement; hurrying footsteps; 
low, earnest voices ; now and then moans of pain. 
But in the nursery everything was quiet, and any- 
one on entering might have supposed for the first 
moment that the room was empty, at least that 
was what Jane thought, as she came hurrying in, 
still with her hat on, although she had returned 
from the dentist’s more than half an hour before. 
It was not until she had lighted the gas, and 
glanced in astonishment about the dismantled 
room, that her eyes suddenly fell upon a little 
figure, crouched in a disheveled heap in the corner 
by the baby-house. 

“ Good gracious, Miss Lulu, what in the world 
are you doing there? ” exclaimed the maid, “ and, 
for pity’s sake, what has happened to everything? 
I nearly broke my neck over a heap of your toys 
in the hall.” 

u How’s Aunt Daisy?” inquired Lulu in a 

130 


LULU’S PENANCE 


131 

smothered little voice, without answering Jane’s 
questions. 

“ O dear! she’s dreadful bad, poor young lady; 
her knee’s broken, they say. It’s an awful thing. 
Goodness knows if she’ll ever be able to walk 
right again. But what on earth have you been 
doing to upset things so ? ” 

“ I was playing fire with the Williamses. We 
played the hall was the street, and we took all 
the things out there to save them from being 
burned up. After the others went away I didn’t 
put them back, because I wanted to read, and 
Aunt Daisy tripped over the doll’s carriage.” 

“ Oh, Miss Lulu, how dreadful ! Then it was 
all your fault, and I’ve heard your mamma tell- 
ing you over and over again not to leave your 
toys about — oh, whatever will she say, and your 
papa, too; they’re both so fond of your poor 
aunt?” 

Lulu made no answer; she was lying face 
downward on the floor, and Jane was too much 
excited to notice the quivering of the little body. 
In her opinion the child was not showing much 
sorrow for her fault. Although a kind-hearted 
girl, Jane was not particularly clever, or quick 
about observing people’s feelings. So she con- 
tinued to dwell on the enormity of Lulu’s crime, 


LULU’S PENANCE 


132 

and on poor Miss Daisy’s sufferings, all the time 
she was bustling about putting things back in 
their places. 

“ It’s just a question how those things will 
end,” she remarked, stopping to wipe her eyes 
as she spoke. “ There was a poor old woman 
who used to live near us when I was a little girl, 
who broke her kneecap, and she never put her 
foot to the ground afterwards. Poor old soul, 
I remember her very well. She died the next 
year, and everyone said it was a blessing.” 

“ My papa is a doctor, and he can cure every- 
thing,” said Lulu, suddenly lifting her head, and 
speaking in a tone which struck Jane as somewhat 
defiant. 

The girl shook her head mournfully. 

“ He’s a very good doctor, I have no doubt, 
but he can’t perform miracles, no more than any- 
one else. Not that I say as poor Miss Daisy 
won’t never walk again, for indeed I hope and 
pray she will, but she’s dreadfully hurt, and I 
hope you realize that you’re the one to blame for 
it all. But it’s time for your supper, and I must 
go downstairs and see about it; the house is so 
upset I don’t suppose anyone has even thought 
of getting it ready.” 

Jane bustled away, quite deaf to Lulu’s remark 


LULU’S PENANCE 


133 

that she didn’t want any supper, and the poor 
little culprit was once more left alone. 

For several minutes she remained quite still in 
the spot where Jane had left her. Then she got 
up, and walking slowly orver the the bureau, stood 
looking at the reflection of her little white face 
in the mirror. 

“ I’m the very wickedest person in the whole 
world,” she said aloud; “ even burglars aren’t so 
wicked as I am. They don’t hurt people — only 
steal their things, and this morning I thought I 
was good enough to convert people.” 

Lulu had so seldom been naughty that the 
sensation of remorse was one she had never be- 
fore experienced. The idea of punishment did 
not even occur to her at first ; she had never been 
punished since she could remember. But sud- 
denly a new and awful recollection flashed into 
her mind. Papa had told her that if she were 
ever unkind to Aunt Daisy, he was afraid that 
he might not be able to love her any more. Not 
to be loved seemed to Lulu the most terrible thing 
that could possibly happen to her, and if Aunt 
Daisy were really so badly hurt as Jane said, 
how could she possibly expect anyone to love her 
when it came to be known that the accident was 
the result of her wicked carelessness? But if 


LULU'S PENANCE 


1 34 

nobody loved her, what would become of her? 
How dreadful it would be to come down to break- 
fast in the mornings, knowing that no one would 
kiss her — no one would even speak to her. Per- 
haps mamma would never again come to hear 
her say her prayers at night, and tuck her up in 
her little bed. Oh, no, she could not bear that — 
it would be better to go away somewhere where 
none of them would ever see her again. She 
couldn’t go on living just as usual, and going 
to school every day, when everyone knew what 
she had done. What would the girls at school 
say? Elsie Carleton had called her “a stuck-up 
little thing ” only yesterday, but she had not 
minded much, because Minnie had said that good 
people were always misunderstood. But now 
that she was not good, and Elsie and all the 
others knew it, how they would giggle and whis- 
per, and throw notes to each other when Miss 
Lathrop’s back was turned. No, no! she could 
never bear it — she would die of shame. 

If she could only hide herself somewhere where 
nobody could find her ! She thought of the cellar, 
but remembered that John, the coachman, would 
be sure to go down there before long, to attend 
to the furnace fire. All the rooms in the attic 
were occupied, except the trunk room, and that 


LULU’S PENANCE 


135 

was locked. Suppose she should go to the Hunts’ 
and tell her trouble to Minnie? Minnie was her 
best friend, and perhaps she might advise her 
what to do — Minnie was so very wise, and then 
she was nearly eleven. But then there was the 
danger of meeting Minnie’s father and mother, 
who would ask questions, and probably send her 
home at once. Even Minnie herself might refuse 
to have anything to do with her. Minnie had oc- 
casionally been naughty. Lulu remembered one 
afternoon not long ago when she had gone to 
see her friend, and had found her seated on a low 
stool in her mother’s room learning a chapter in 
the Bible, and Mrs. Hunt had explained that 
Minnie couldn’t play that day because she had 
been very impertinent, and was being punished. 
She must learn a whole chapter in the Bible by 
way of penance. Lulu had wondered at the time 
what “ penance ” meant, and Aunt Daisy had 
told her afterward that it meant when people 
were sorry for having done wrong, and wanted 
to do something that was difficult or not very 
pleasant in order to atone for their faults. 

The remembrance of the explanation came to 
Lulu now as a sort of inspiration. Suppose she 
should do something by way of penance herself? 
It would have to be something very dreadful. 


LULU'S PENANCE 


136 

Learning chapters in the Bible might be very well 
for people who had only been impertinent, but 
for people who had let their poor blind aunts 
fall downstairs and break their knees, just be- 
cause they were too lazy and too selfish to put 
away their toys, it would not be nearly severe 
enough. Perhaps if she were to spend a whole 
night in the cellar, quite in the dark — but no, even 
that would not be bad enough. Papa and mamma 
would be sure to find her there, and she wanted 
to go somewhere where she could not be found. 
If there were only Crusades now — she had read 
about the pilgrims who went to the Holy Land — 
but that was a long time ago, and she did not 
believe there were any pilgrims now; certainly 
not in America. She had seen pictures of pil- 
grims and they all looked very poor and forlorn ; 
quite like beggars. There were beggars every- 
where, even in New York, and not only grown- 
up beggars, but boys and girls no older than 
herself. Lulu’s heart began to beat very fast. 

“ I will go and be a beggar,” she said, with 
sudden resolution ; “ I have always thought that 
to be a beggar was the most terrible thing in the 
world. Yes, I am quite sure that that will be a 
penance, and perhaps after I have been one for 
a very long time, till I’m almost grown up, papa 


LULU’S PENANCE 


1 37 

and mamma may forgive me and let me come 
home again. And if Aunt Daisy gets well, I’m 
sure she will forgive me, too ; she always forgives, 
and she never, never tells.” And at the recollec- 
tion of the many, many kind things Aunt Daisy 
had done for her little niece, Lulu’s tears burst 
forth afresh. 

But in a very few minutes she dried her eyes 
and began her preparations. There was no time 
to lose, she decided. In a little while Jane would 
come to call her down to supper, and besides, if 
she waited and thought much more about it, she 
was quite sure her courage would fail. She 
reached down her rainy-day hat and jacket from 
their pegs in the closet — it would not do to wear 
her best clothes if she were going to be a beggar. 
She did not dare to look around the dear old 
nursery once more; she tried not to think about 
the dolls, and how lonely they would be without 
her. It would not do to take one for company, 
not even the little ones that lived in the baby- 
house. Who had ever heard of beggars having 
dolls? 

She put on her hat and jacket hurriedly, and 
had nearly reached the door when a sudden 
thought caused her to pause. She could not go 
away without letting papa and mamma know 


LULU’S PENANCE 


138 

what she was going to do. She must write a 
note, of course ; in books people always left notes 
to tell when they were going to run away. She 
went back to her desk — the pretty little desk that 
papa had given her only last Christmas — and 
taking one of the sheets of paper with her mono- 
gram on it, began to write with a pencil : 

“ My Own Dearest Papa and Mamma : 

“ I let Aunt Daisy fall downstairs, because I 
was lazy, and left my toys out in the hall. She 
fell over the doll’s carriage. I know you can 
never love me any more, so I am going away 
to be a beggar; I think that will be the best way 
to do penance. When I have been a beggar a 
great many years, perhaps you may be able to 
forgive me, but until then I will try to be a 
good girl, and not make you any more ashamed 
of me than I can help. 

“Your Own Lulu" 

Lulu read the note over carefully to see how 
it sounded, and then putting it in an envelope, 
she directed it in a large flourishing hand to “ Dr. 
and Mrs. Bell." This done she once more turned 
to the door, and crept softly out into the hall, and 
down the stairs. 


LULU'S PENANCE 


139 


Papa and mamma were both in Aunt Daisy’s 
room; she heard their voices as she passed the 
door — she also heard another sound — the sound 
of moaning, and with a dreadful, choking sensa- 
tion in her throat, she hurried on, not daring to 
stop even to breathe. 

All the servants, including Jane, were in the 
kitchen, talking over the events of the afternoon, 
and there was no one to see the little figure glide 
swiftly down the stairs. In another moment the 
front door had been softly opened and closed 
again, and Lulu was alone by herself, for the very 
first time in her life, in the streets of the great 
city. 


CHAPTER IV 


,L the street lamps were lighted, and the 



broad avenue looked very gay, with its 


crowds of hurrying people and the elec- 
tric lights making everything almost as bright 
as day. Lulu had always enjoyed being out after 
dark. There was a fascination about it which 
she had not as yet outgrown; but to-night she 
scarcely looked to the right or left .as she walked 
steadily and rapidly down the street in the direc- 
tion of what she knew to be the business part 
of the city. 

“ I must find where the poor people live, ,, she 
said to herself. “ I think Mollie said once that 
it was on the East Side. I know how to go 
there; just turn down any street and walk 
straight on till I come to the East River.” 

Accordingly, at the next corner she left the 
avenue and turned into a quiet side street. It 
seemed very strange to be out by herself after 
dark, and she felt a little frightened, in spite of 
the fact that she was sure it was nothing unusual 
for beggars. Perhaps if she began to be a beg- 


LULU'S PENANCE 


141 

gar right away she would get used to it sooner. 
But here a new difficulty presented itself. Beg- 
gars wore old clothes — not merely rainy-day 
clothes, but really ragged ones, and not very 
clean — and they almost always carried a basket. 
If she were to begin to beg in her present gar- 
ments, people would be sure to stare, and ask 
embarrassing questions. But how could she 
possibly become possessed of a beggar’s outfit? 
There was manifestly only one thing to do: she 
must make the acquaintance of a beggar. 

As if in answer to that thought, a shrill, whin- 
ing voice spoke close at her side. 

“ Please give a poor woman a few pennies. 
Little baby at home vairy sick — no money to buy 
milk.” 

Lulu turned her head with a start, and there, 
close beside her, was the very person she wanted : 
a beggar woman, of the most disreputable appear- 
ance — rags, dirt, basket and all. Lulu impul- 
sively held out her hand. 

“ Ah, God bless zee kind leetle lady,” began 
the woman, misunderstanding the action ; “ zee 
will surely give five cents to buy zee poor leetle 
baby some milk ? ” 

“ I’m very sorry,” said Lulu in a tone of real 
regret. “ I’ve got ’most a dollar at home, but 


142 


LULU’S PENANCE 


I forgot to bring my purse. I wish I hadn’t, for 
then we could buy all the milk you wanted, and 
perhaps you would let me go home with you to 
see your baby.” 

The woman — who was already moving away 
— turned round again with a sudden start. 

“ What zat you say? ” she demanded sharply, 
regarding Lulu very curiously with her sharp 
black eyes. 

“ I said that perhaps you would have let me go 
home with you to see the baby.” 

“ What for you want to go home wiz me? ” 

“ Because I’m going to be a — like you, you 
know,” said Lulu, blushing and hesitating. She 
was not sure whether beggars liked to have their 
calling mentioned or not, and she did not want 
to hurt the woman’s feelings. 

“ To be like me — what you mean by zat?” 
The sharp black eyes were staring harder than 
ever. 

“ I mean,” faltered Lulu, “ that I want — that 
is, I have to be a beggar. I can’t be one very 
well with these clothes on, and I ought to have 
a basket. I thought perhaps that if you would 
let me go home with you, I might be able to find 
out how to get the things I need.” 

“ Oh, go way; you make fun!” said the 


LULU'S PENANCE 


143 


woman, beginning to move on again. “ You go 
home ; you mozer be frightened you out so late.” 

She began to walk fast, but Lulu kept close 
by her side. 

“ Indeed I’m not pretending,” she said ear- 
nestly, lifting her blue eyes to the beggar woman’s 
face; “I have really got to be a beggar. I’ve 
been very, very naughty, and Fm afraid my papa 
and mamma will never love me any more. I 
want to do penance, and the only way I can think 
of is to be a beggar.” 

The woman stopped short again; her round 
black eyes very wide open indeed. 

“ You want to come home wiz me — you want 
to be a beggar, not for fun ? ” she said slowly, 
still quite incredulous. 

Lulu nodded. That big lump in her throat 
was choking her so that words did not come 
easily. The woman’s glance wandered from the 
wistful little face to the long golden curls, and 
then to the child’s clothes; although they were 
only rainy-day clothes, they were very good — 
quite worth possessing, the woman decided, and 
her countenance relaxed into a grin. 

“ Vairy well,” she said in quite a different 
tone; “'you come wiz me; I take you to my 
house, and we see what we can do.” 


144 


LULU’S PENANCE 


“ Oh, thank you,” said Lulu, really much re- 
lieved ; “ I was afraid perhaps you wouldn’t, on 
account of my not having any money, but when 
I’m a beggar I’ll try and get some, and then I 
can give it to you.” 

The woman said nothing, but began to un- 
fasten the old shawl she wore. It was a very 
dirty shawl, and Lulu noticed in some surprise 
that it was not the only one the woman had, for 
underneath it was pinned another, if possible, 
even dirtier. They were in a very quiet side 
street, and at the moment there happened to be 
no passers-by. 

“ You put zat on,” said the woman, holding 
out the dilapidated garment to Lulu ; “ we have 
long walk — you be vairy cold.” 

“ Oh, no, thank you,” said Lulu, shrinking 
instinctively from closer contact with the objec- 
tionable article ; “ you are very kind, but my 
jacket is quite warm, and I’m not the least bit 
cold.” 

But the woman persisted. 

“ If you come wiz me to my house you must,” 
she said. “ If zee policeman see us, he say I 
take you away; he take me to prison.” 

This possibility was so dreadful that Lulu had 


LULU’S PENANCE 


145 


nothing more to say, and she submitted in silence 
while her new acquaintance wrapped the old 
shawl carefully about her. It was very long, 
nearly reaching the ground, and quite conceal- 
ing her dress and jacket. The woman next pro- 
ceeded to take off Lulu’s hat, and pinned one end 
of the shawl over her head, so as quite to cover 
the long curls. In spite of her desire to be polite, 
Lulu could not repress an involuntary shudder. 
The shawl certainly was very dirty, and she had 
an almost morbid horror of everything that was 
not quite clean. 

“ Now,” said the beggar woman, surveying her 
work with evident satisfaction, “ you look like 
leetle beggar girl. Zee policeman sink you my 
own leetle girl. I take zee hat and hold him 
under zee shawl, so no one can see.” 

Lulu complied, and they walked on for a few 
moments in silence. Being a beggar was cer- 
tainly not a pleasant experience. She stole sev- 
eral curious glances at her companion, and de- 
cided that she was about the most unprepos- 
sessing beggar she had ever seen. Perhaps it 
might have been better to have waited a little 
longer, and selected one less objectionable in 
appearance. Then Lulu’s tender conscience smote 


LULU’S PENANCE 


146 

her; the woman really was very kind to take her 
home, especially when she was in such sad trouble 
herself. 

“ Is your baby very ill ? ” she inquired rather 
timidly, when they had crossed another broad 
avenue, and were still continuing their way east- 
ward. 

The woman gave a start. 

“ My leetle baby — oh, yes, he vairy sick ; we 
vairy poor people.” 

“ I’m so sorry,” said Lulu ; “ have you had the 
doctor for him? ” 

The woman shook her head. 

“ My papa is a very good doctor,” Lulu went 
on eagerly. “ He often goes to see poor people 
who can’t pay him. Perhaps he would come and 
see your baby if you asked him. You might 
write him a note about it.” 

“ I no write lettairs — I vairy poor woman.” 

“ I can,” said Lulu; “ I will write and ask my 
papa to come and see your baby; then he and 
mamma will know where I am, and they won’t 
worry about me. I will write it just as soon as 
we get to your house, and we can send it by a 
messenger boy. I’ve been thinking that it 
wouldn’t do not to let papa and mamma know 
where I am to-night ; I’m afraid mamma wouldn’t 


LULU’S PENANCE 


147 

be able to sleep if she thought I was lost. But 
you must tell me your name, so I can tell papa 
who to ask for.” 

“ I Missis Vincenca,” said the woman, with a 
grin. 

“ Mrs. Vincenca — what a very pretty name ; 
it isn’t English, though, is it ? ” 

“ I Italian lady,” said Mrs. Vincenca. “ I 
come to zis country wiz my man, and my sree 
little children. My man he get killed — big stone 
fall on his head.” 

“ Oh, how very sad. How old are your 
children?” 

Mrs. Vincenca hesitated a moment, as if con- 
sidering, and then answered glibly — 

“ Leetle boy he seex — leetle girl she sree, and 
zee baby ten months. But we must make hurry 
up and not talk so much. I not like to leave zee 
baby so long.” 

Thus admonished, Lulu said no more. She 
concluded that it evidently made Mrs. Vincenca 
sad to talk about her family. 

Their walk was a very long one, and before 
they reached their destination Lulu’s little feet 
had begun to ache, and she had remembered more 
than once that she had not had any supper. 
This latter fact was very unfortunate, for if Mrs. 


LULU’S PENANCE 


148 

Vincenca were so poor it would never do to have 
a very large appetite. The part of the city 
through which they walked was quite strange to 
Lulu. It was not by any means an attractive 
neighborhood, and the further they proceeded, 
the more dirty and squalid it became. 

At last Mrs. Vincenca turned a corner, and 
Lulu suddenly found herself close to the river. 
She was just beginning to wonder whether Mrs. 
Vincenca could possibly intend crossing one of 
the ferries, when her companion paused before a 
doorway, and next moment Lulu found herself 
in a dingy, narrow hall, in which half a dozen 
ragged, untidy-looking children were making a 
good deal of noise as they chased each other up 
and down the stairs. 

With a sudden feeling of unaccountable terror, 
Lulu drew back. 

“ Oh, if you please, Mrs. Vincenca,” she fal- 
tered, beginning to tremble, “ I don’t think I had 
better come in. I’m afraid papa and mamma 
will really be very unhappy if I don’t go home 
to-night. I didn’t think of it at first, but you see, 
they never let me go out by myself, and mamma 
will be sure to think I’ve been run over. I’m 
ever so much obliged to you; you’ve been very 
kind to me, but please let me go home now. I’ll 


LULU’S PENANCE 


149 

send papa to see your baby just as soon as I 
can.” 

But Mrs. Vincenca only laughed a rather dis- 
agreeable laugh. 

“ You come wiz me,” she said, seizing Lulu 
firmly by the hand. “ You say you will be leetle 
beggar girl; you not run away now like leetle 
fool. Zis vairy nice place — nossing will hurt 
you.” 

Even politeness was forgotten in this awful 
moment, and Lulu began to cry. 

“ Oh, please, please let me go home, Mrs. 
Vincenca,” she sobbed ; “ I don’t think I really 
can be a beggar — I don’t believe papa and 
mamma would like to have me one. I’m afraid 
I was very naughty to run away.” 

“ Come wiz me zis minute, or I carry you,” 
said Mrs. Vincenca in such a terrible voice that 
Lulu’s heart almost seemed to stop beating, and 
she dared not make any further resistance. 

Still keeping tight hold of her hand, Mrs. Vin- 
cenca led the way up the steep, narrow stairs, 
the dirty children scampering out of the way to 
let them pass. 

“ Who’s that ? ” inquired a small boy, staring 
hard at Lulu. 

“ Zat is my seester’s little Bianca,” said the 


LULU’S PENANCE 


150 

woman promptly. “ My seester vairy seek — I 
bring her little Bianca home wiz me, while her 
mozer in zee hospital.” 

Lulu gave a little horrified gasp. Mrs. Vin- 
cenca was not a good woman, after all. She 
told wicked stories, and good people never did 
that. She was afraid to speak, however, and 
they went on climbing the stairs until they had 
mounted three flights and had reached the top 
floor of the house. Then Mrs. Vincenca paused 
and opened a door. 

“ Come in,” she said ; “ zis is my house.” 

It was the very dirtiest room that Lulu had 
ever seen in her life. Even the bare floor was 
covered with dirt, and as to the walls and the 
few articles of furniture — well, perhaps, the less 
said about them the better. Lulu glanced about 
eagerly, in search of the sick baby and the other 
children, but to her surprise, she saw that the 
room was empty. Mrs. Vincenca closed the 
door, and turning to her little companion, she 
said not unkindly — 

“ Now you must not be frightened — nossing 
shall hurt you, I tell you zat before. You shall 
stay wiz me zis night, and to-morrow you shall 
go home again if you like. Now I will take off 
your sings, and we shall have somesing to eat.” 


LULU’S PENANCE 


151 

“ But where are the children? ” inquired Lulu, 
still trembling, in spite of Mrs. Vincenca’s com- 
forting assurances. 

“ What children ? ” demanded Mrs. Vincenca, 
as if rather surprised by the question. 

“ Why, your children — the baby who is sick, 
and the little boy and girl, you know.” 

“ Oh, you mean zem ; zey are not here. Anozer 
lady take zem in her house when I go out. Now, 
come, you shall sit down by zee fire — you are 
cold all over. My man he been here, and make 
good fire for us.” 

“ But I thought you said ” began Lulu, 

and then stopped abruptly. She was afraid to 
argue with Mrs. Vincenca, and she recollected 
that a person who told one story might be very 
likely to tell others as well. 

Mrs. Vincenca was not actually unkind. She 
made Lulu sit down on the floor beside the stove, 
in which a really good fire was burning, and 
although Lulu would have much preferred stand- 
ing up, not liking the appearance of the floor, 
she dared not express her feelings on the sub- 
ject, for fear that Mrs. Vincenca might think 
her rude. She was glad to be relieved of the old 
shawl, and it was also somewhat comforting to 
notice that Mrs. Vincenca did not throw her hat 


LULU’S PENANCE 


152 

and jacket on the dirty floor, as she did her own 
shawl and hood, but hung them carefully on a 
peg in the corner, beside a man’s coat, and a few 
other garments not quite so dilapidated as those 
which the beggar woman wore. 

It certainly was a very strange place, Lulu 
thought. The room was fairly large, but there 
was very little furniture in it. There was a table, 
and two or three broken cane chairs; a lamp 
burned on the table, and there were a few pots 
and china dishes on a shelf. That was all the 
furniture except the stove, but in one corner there 
was a basket half filled with fruit, none of which 
looked particularly inviting. 

Having poked the fire and attended to the 
smoking lamp, Mrs. Vincenca next proceeded to 
examine the contents of her basket. Lulu sat 
watching her with fascinated eyes, as she drew 
forth one article after another and placed them 
all in a heap on the table. Several pieces of cold 
meat, chiefly bones; a number of cold potatoes, 
and a few slices of stale bread. When the basket 
had been emptied, Mrs. Vincenca stood looking 
at her day’s gleanings with an expression of some 
satisfaction, and once more addressing her small 
visitor, she said cheerfully: 

“ We shall soon have somesing to eat now.” 


LULU’S PENANCE 


153 

“ Oh, no, thank you,” said Lulu, rather trem- 
ulously ; “ I don’t think I should like — that is, I 
mean, I’m not at all hungry ; I really couldn’t eat 
anything. I had a very hearty dinner at one 
o’clock, you see.” 

Before Mrs. Vincenca could say anything 
more, the door opened and a man came in. He 
was not at all a nice-looking man, and Lulu in- 
stinctively shrank from him even more than she 
had done from the woman. Mrs. Vincenca did 
not seem at all surprised at this intrusion, but 
began at once talking to the newcomer, very 
fast, and in a language Lulu did not understand. 
At first the man seemed puzzled, and kept staring 
from Mrs. Vincenca to Lulu, and then back to 
Mrs. Vincenca again, but by degrees he seemed 
to comprehend what the woman was telling him, 
and then he began talking in his turn, also very 
fast, and in the same language, which Lulu con- 
cluded must be Italian. 

They both grew quite excited, and for a few 
moments kept interrupting each other and mak- 
ing gestures. Lulu felt quite sure they were talk- 
ing about her, and her heart beat so fast that 
she could scarcely breathe. By degrees, however, 
the excitement subsided, and it was evident from 
Mrs. Vincenca’s expression that she had gained 


LULU'S PENANCE 


154 

her point, whatever it was. Then, to Lulu’s 
horror, the man came over to where she sat, and 
stooping down, took one of her long curls in his 
fingers. 

“ Oh, don’t, please don’t,” cried the child, in 
sudden, uncontrollable terror. 

“ He is only my man ; he will not hurt you,” 
said Mrs. Vincenca reassuringly, and the man — 
who did not seem at all ill-natured — promptly 
dropped the curl, and taking a banana — rather 
less green than the rest of the fruit — from his 
basket, he presented it to Lulu, with what he 
evidently intended for an encouraging smile. 

“ You are very kind,” said Lulu, making a 
great effort to overcome her repugnance ; “ but 
my mamma doesn’t like to have me eat bananas 
at night; she thinks they don’t agree with me.” 

The man — who evidently did not understand 
English — glanced at Mrs. Vincenca for an ex- 
planation. The woman laughed, and said some- 
thing in Italian, whereupon Mr. Vincenca, as 
Lulu supposed he must be, uttered a short grunt, 
and restored the banana to his basket. 

Mrs. Vincenca meanwhile continued her 
preparations for supper. She placed the pieces 
of meat and the cold potatoes together in a pan 
and put them on the stove to warm. Then she 


LULU’S PENANCE 


155 


cut the bread into small slices, and producing 
from an inner room a large black bottle, poured 
some of the contents into two tumblers. She 
also placed three plates and three very grimy- 
looking forks on the table. 

The Vincencas evidently had no intention of 
starving their little guest, for they both did their 
best to persuade her to eat, Mrs. Vincenca by 
coaxing words, Mr. Vincenca by grins and nods. 
But the poor child only shook her head ; the very 
sight of the unpalatable food made her faint and 
sick. At last they gave up in despair, and de- 
voted their attentions to their own supper, which 
they appeared to enjoy quite as much as other 
people enjoy more dainty fare. 

Lulu meanwhile crouched in her corner beside 
the stove, and winked hard to keep back the tears, 
which every moment threatened to overflow, and 
choked down the big lump in her throat, which 
seemed to be growing bigger and bigger every 
moment. The more she thought about it, the 
more sure she felt that she had done a dreadful 
thing in running away. Even if papa and 
mamma could not love her any more, she was 
sure they would be very unhappy when bedtime 
came, and their little girl had not come home. 
Poor Aunt Daisy, too ; how distressed she would 


LULU’S PENANCE 


156 

be. Aunt Daisy would forgive her and love her 
no matter what happened. O dear! O dear! 
if only Mrs. Vincenca would take her home ! And 
now the tears would come, and the choking sobs, 
too. 

The Vincencas finished their meal, and then 
Mr. Vincenca lighted his pipe, and Mrs. Vin- 
cenca put away the plates and the forks without 
washing them. Neither of them paid much at- 
tention to Lulu; that is, they did not talk much 
to her, but she had an idea that their conversa- 
tion was chiefly about her, for whenever they 
talked specially loud or fast, they were sure to 
point to her. At last Mrs. Vincenca came to her 
side, and bending down to look into the little, 
tear-stained face, said rather kindly : 

“ You vairy tired; shall you like to go to sleep 
now ? ” 

“ No — oh, no,” cried Lulu, her sobs bursting 
forth afresh; “ oh, Mrs. Vincenca, please, please 
let me go home. You can’t think how frightened 
they’ll all be, and poor Aunt Daisy has broken 
her knee. It was my fault; I let her fall down- 
stairs; that’s why I thought I ought to be a beg- 
gar. But now I know she’ll be dreadfully un- 
happy if I don’t come home, because she loves 
me so.” 


LULU’S PENANCE 


1 57 


But Mrs. Vincenca only shook her head. 

“ To-morrow you shall go/’ she said, “ in zee 
morning early; to-night it is too late; I could 
not let you go. You would be lost in the streets, 
it is vairy far.” 

“ Perhaps Mr. Vincenca could take me home,” 
suggested Lulu, with a sudden hope. “ I think 
papa would pay him something, like he did the 
boy that brought Aunt Daisy’s pussy home.” 

Still Mrs. Vincenca was obdurate, and as it 
seemed impossible to make Mr. Vincenca under- 
stand English, Lulu was obliged to yield, and very 
reluctantly consented to Mrs. Vincenca’s decision 
that she should spend the night with her new 
acquaintance. 

The question of a place for Lulu to sleep was 
not very easily settled. The Vincencas had only 
two rooms, the one which did duty as kitchen 
and general sitting-room, and an inner apart- 
ment, which contained a bed, a chair and a three- 
legged stool. Mrs. Vincenca first suggested that 
Lulu should share the bed with herself and Mr. 
Vincenca, but at the child’s look of horror at 
this proposal, she relented, and offered to make 
up a bed for her on the floor. Lulu inquired 
innocently where the children slept when they 
were at home, but Mrs. Vincenca did not an- 


LULU’S PENANCE 


158 

swer, and looked so cross that she decided it 
might be wiser not to mention the children in 
future. 

The bed on the floor consisted of an old com- 
forter spread on the bare boards to serve as a 
mattress, and another for a coverlet. Lulu sur- 
veyed these preparations with growing dismay, 
but was too much in awe of her strange hostess 
to make any remark on the subject. When Mrs. 
Vincenca told her to undress, she looked round 
vainly in search of washing materials. 

“ Would you mind letting me go to the bath- 
room, as you don’t have water in your bed- 
room ? ” she asked rather timidly. “ I don’t 
quite like to go to bed without washing my face 
and hands.” 

Mrs. Vincenca shook her head. 

“We do not have bassrooms in my house,” 
she said. 

“ Oh, don’t you ? ” said Lulu, very much sur- 
prised, but after looking at Mrs. Vincenca at- 
tentively for a moment, she came to the con- 
clusion that that lady did not look as if she had 
ever been very familiar with bathrooms. 

Mrs. Vincenca had no nightgown to fit her 
guest, so she rolled her up in one of her numerous 
shawls, which was so very far from being clean 


LULU’S PENANCE 


159 

that poor Lulu felt fairly sick at the sight of it. 
But she dared not complain, so with an irre- 
pressible shudder, and a half-suppressed sob, she 
lay down on the hard floor, and Mrs. Vincenca 
covered her up, and then went away into the 
outer room, taking the lamp with her and closing 
the door. 

Alone at last in that strange, dreadful place, 
Lulu’s grief and terror might have their way un- 
disturbed. Oh, how very, very uncomfortable 
she was ! She thought of her pretty nursery, and 
her little soft, white bed, and of mamma’s good- 
night kiss. She thought of the luxury of lying 
and watching the flickering fire light, and listen- 
ing to the distant sound of the piano, which Aunt 
Daisy was playing downstairs. How strange 
that she should never before have realized how 
happy she had been. What would she not give 
to be in that little white bed now! Oh, if only 
God let her get home again, she would never, 
never fret about being left alone upstairs when 
Jane went out in the evenings! How comfort- 
able and safe she had been then, and she used 
to be such a goose about being afraid of the 
dark, until Aunt Daisy found out her feelings on 
the subject, and would steal up to her room, mak- 
ing some excuse about having writing to do, just 


160 LULU’S PENANCE 

so that her little niece should be assured by the 
familiar click of the typewriter that someone who 
loved her was within call. 

Then a sudden thought occurred to her: she 
had not said her prayers and she had never be- 
fore gone to bed without saying them — at least 
never since she could remember. If she needed 
God to take care of her in her nursery, she must 
surely need Him even more in this strange, ter- 
rible place. She raised herself to her knees, and 
folding her hands reverently in the darkness, be- 
gan her evening prayer. “ Now I lay me down 
to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.” But 
when she had asked God to bless papa and 
mamma and Aunt Daisy, and everyone, she did 
not end as usual, but added in a trembling voice : 

“ And oh, dear God, please do take care of me, 
and let Mrs. Vincenca take me home very early 
in the morning. And oh, please don’t let dear 
papa and mamma be very unhappy about me, and 
do let Aunt Daisy get well. Dear God, I know 
I have been very, very naughty, and I will never, 
never be conceited again, but I will try to be a 
good girl, and help mamma and Aunt Daisy, and 
not think about converting people. Oh, dear 
God, please do take care of me, and bring me 
home safe to my own papa and mamma. Amen.” 


LULU'S PENANCE 


161 


Somehow she did not feel quite so lonely and 
frightened after she had said her prayers. She 
wrapped herself up in the old shawl, and cried 
softly for a long time, but she was very tired, 
poor child, as well as very unhappy, and by and 
by she began to grow drowsy, and even to forget 
how uncomfortable she was. She started up sev- 
eral times from uneasy dreams, but tired nature 
asserted itself at last, and she fell into a deep, un- 
troubled sleep. 


CHAPTER V 


W HEN Lulu awoke it was broad day- 
light, and Mrs. Vincenca was stand- 
ing looking down at her, with a rather 
curious expression in her black eyes. For the 
first moment she could not remember where she 
was, and lay staring about the strange room with 
puzzled eyes, wondering what could possibly be 
the matter with her back. But Mrs. Vincenca’s 
voice speedily put an end to all doubts on Lulu's 
part. 

“ You must get up now, it is zee morning; you 
shall go home to your house.” 

With a feeling of intense relief, Lulu scram- 
bled to her feet. She felt queer and bruised all 
over, and when she tried to stand up, grew so 
very giddy that she was frightened, and caught 
at Mrs. Vincenca’s dress to save herself from 
falling. 

“ I don’t know what is the matter with me,” 
she gasped; “ I think I must be ill.” 

“Nevaire mind; you shall feel better vairy 
soon,” said Mrs. Vincenca. She lifted the child 

162 


LULU’S PENANCE 


163 

in her arms and laid her in her own bed, which, 
though far from comfortable, was certainly 
softer than the bare floor. She left the room 
for a moment, and when she returned carried a 
cup of milk in one hand and a slice of bread in 
the other. 

The cup had lost its handle and the bread 
looked very stale and uninviting, but the milk 
was good, and Lulu made no objection to swal- 
lowing it when Mrs. Vincenca held it to her lips. 
She could not bring herself to taste the bread, 
but drank every drop of the milk, and after that 
she had no further difficulty in standing on her 
feet. 

“You are very kind,” she said gratefully, 
handing the empty cup to Mrs. Vincenca ; “ did 
you buy this milk on purpose for me ? ” 

Mrs. Vincenca nodded. 

“ I suppose Mr. Vincenca has some money — 
you know, you said last night you hadn’t 
any.” 

“ Yes, he had leetle money,” said Mrs. Vin- 
cenca shortly ; “ he sell fruit.” 

Lulu was going to ask how the baby was that 
morning, and to express a hope that she had not 
been depriving it of milk, but she remembered 
that Mrs. Vincenca had not seemed fond of talk- 


LULU’S PENANCE 


164 

mg about her children, so she changed her mind 
and inquired instead — 

“ May I get dressed now and go home right 
away? ” 

“ As soon as you like/’ said Mrs. Vincenca. 

“ You are very good, but — but, I don’t see my 
clothes ; would you please let me have them ? ” 

Mrs. Vincenca pointed silently to a little pile 
of garments lying on the foot of the bed. Lulu 
regarded them for a moment, and her eyes 
opened wide in astonishment. 

“ Excuse me,” she said rather falteringly, 
“ but I think you must be mistaken ; those are 
not my clothes.” 

“ Put zem on,” said Mrs. Vincenca with de- 
cision; “ zey are all you will have. You say you 
will be beggar — now you shall try.” 

“ Oh,” said Lulu, with a sudden recollection, 
“ I remember that I did say that, but I’ve changed 
my mind. I’ve decided to go home and ask my 
papa and mamma to forgive me. I don’t think 
mamma would like to see me in those clothes, 
so please let me have my own.” 

“ I shall not,” said Mrs. Vincenca, and she 
looked so very cross that Lulu was afraid to 
argue the matter any further. But, oh, those 
dreadful clothes! How could she ever bring 


LULU’S PENANCE 


165 

herself to put them on? There were not many 
of them, to be sure, but they looked as if they 
had never seen soap and water since the day 
they were made, and, judging from their appear- 
ance, that day must have been a long time ago. 
There was an old flannel skirt, very much too 
short for Lulu; a calico dress, with a large slit 
across the back and with one sleeve hanging out, 
and a pair of shoes, so full of holes that it realty 
was almost a miracle how they managed to hold 
together at all. 

The dress was so tight that Lulu could scarcely 
breathe when Mrs. Vincenca had fastened it, and 
the shoes were so big that her little feet fairly 
swam in them ; but she bore her discomfort with- 
out a word of complaint. Her one thought now 
was to get home with as little delay as possible, 
and she rightly judged that the longer she stopped 
to talk the longer it would be before she could 
start. 

When Mrs. Vincenca had pinned and arranged 
the ragged garments to her own satisfaction, if 
not to Lulu’s, she took the child into the outer 
room, which was now empty, Mr. Vincenca 
having already gone out, taking his fruit basket 
with him. 

“ Can we go now ? ” inquired Lulu, glancing 


1 66 


LULU’S PENANCE 


eagerly toward the peg where her jacket and 
hat had hung on the previous evening, but which 
was now empty. 

“ In a leetle while,” said Mrs. Vincenca, taking 
from the table a large pair of scissors, “ first I 
must cut zis hair. Leetle beggar girls do not 
have long hair.” 

“ You won’t cut my curls off — not really?” 
gasped Lulu in a sudden agony of apprehension. 
“ Oh, please, please don’t do that ; it would 
make mamma so very unhappy and Aunt Daisy, 
too; Aunt Daisy loves to feel my curls, she says 
they’re so soft, and you know she can’t see. If 
you want me to, I’ll ask papa to give you a 
hundred dollars, only please, please don’t cut 
my curls.” 

But she might as well have pleaded to the 
winds. Mrs. Vincenca was obdurate. With 
one hand she held the sobbing, trembling child 
firmly by the shoulders, and with the other the 
cruel scissors did their work. Snip, snip, snip; 
down fell the soft golden curls in a shower to 
the dirty floor. Lulu gave one great sob, and 
then shut her eyes tight. She would have liked 
to have shut her ears as well, for every snip of 
those terrible scissors seemed to fall upon them 
like the knell of doom. To go home without her 



Snip, snip, snip ; down fell the soft golden curls 

Page 166. 







































































































































































LULU’S PENANCE 


167 

clothes was bad enough, but to go home without 
her curls — the thought was almost more than 
she could bear. 

Mrs. Vincenca finished her work, and gather- 
ing up the severed locks, she wrapped them in a 
newspaper. Lulu stood quite still. She did not 
even put up her hand to feel what the work of 
those scissors had been. She was glad there was 
no mirror in which to see herself — it would be 
soon enough to find out how ugly she was, when 
she heard mamma's lamentations. 

“ We shall go now," said Mrs. Vincenca, be- 
ginning to pin on her shawl ; “ you shall have 
some more milk first." 

Lulu shook her head; to have spoken would 
not have been easy just then. Mrs. Vincenca 
fastened the old dirty shawl that she had worn 
before over Lulu’s head and shoulders, and then 
she took up her own basket. 

“ Come," she said, and without a word Lulu 
followed her out of the room and down the 
steep narrow stairs. 

On the lowest flight they met the same small 
boy who had spoken to Mrs. Vincenca on the 
previous evening. 

“ Takin’ your little niece out to beg?" he 
inquired in -a tone of some interest. 


LULU’S PENANCE 


1 68 

“ I take her home now,” said Mrs. Vincenca 
shortly. 

“ It’s an awful day out,” the boy remarked ; 
“ rainin’, hailin’, and freezin’ all together. I 
went to the baker’s and I tumbled down three 
times.” 

This intelligence did not appear to trouble 
Mrs. Vincenca very much, but Lulu involuntarily 
hesitated. 

“ Oh, Mrs. Vincenca,” she said, summoning 
up all her courage for this one last appeal ; “ do 
you think you could possibly lend me a pair of 
rubbers ? Mamma never likes to have me get my 
feet wet, and I’m afraid these shoes are not very 
thick.” 

Perhaps Mrs, Vincenca did not know what the 
word “ rubbers ” meant ; at any rate her only 
answer was to open the street door, and in an- 
other moment Lulu found herself stumbling 
along the slippery sidewalk in her big shoes, with 
the sharp icy sleet blowing in her face. 

It was very dreadful, even worse than the hard 
bed on the floor and not having any place to 
wash, and before they had walked a block the 
last remnant of Lulu’s courage had ebbed away, 
and she was crying as if her heart would break. 
Mrs. Vincenca did not take much notice of her, 


LULU’S PENANCE 169 

but walked steadily on, and the few people they 
met only stared; the sight of a ragged child cry- 
ing was no uncommon one in that neighborhood. 
It was almost impossible to keep on her feet, and 
Lulu had to cling tight to Mrs. Vincenca to 
keep from falling down at every step. 

Lulu, quite unfamiliar with that part of the 
city, had no idea in what direction they were 
going, and even the thought of reaching home 
was for the moment almost forgotten in the grief 
over her lost curls. Ever since she could remem- 
ber she had heard people admire her hair; she 
could not quite picture herself as living without 
it. Besides, what would papa and mamma say? 
Even if they could bring themselves to forgive 
what she had done to poor Aunt Daisy, it would 
be quite impossible that they should ever love 
her again now that she was so ugly. 

They had walked some distance and had 
reached the corner of an avenue where there 
were horse cars and shops, when Mrs. Vincenca 
suddenly stopped short. 

“ Now,” she said abruptly, “you go home to 
your house; I go back to my house.” And she 
was actually moving away, without another word, 
when Lulu caught at her skirts. 

“ Oh, don’t leave me all alone ! — oh, no, no,” 


170 


LULU’S PENANCE 


she cried, imploringly ; “ please don’t leave me all 
alone. I don’t know my way home ; I never can 
find it from here. I shall fall down ; I can’t walk 
in these shoes; it’s so terribly slippery. Oh, 
please, please ” 

But she might as well have spoken to a stone 
wall as to Mrs. Vincenca. With one quick move- 
ment the woman had wrenched herself free from 
the little clinging hands. 

“You stop zat,” she said in a tone that Lulu 
had never heard before. “ If you run after me 
I will shut you up in a dark place, and never let 
you go home at all. If you tell your fazer and 
your mozer whqje my house is, my man will 
come in zee dark night and kill you — now you 
understand ? ” 

Poor Lulu was simply too frightened and too 
much astonished to say another word, and before 
she had fully realized the awful thing that was 
happening to her, Mrs. Vincenca had disappeared 
from view round the corner, and she was stand- 
ing all alone, a little ragged, shivering figure, in 
the midst of the winter storm. 

Lulu’s first action under these unpleasant cir- 
cumstances was to sink down on the wet side- 
walk and give way to a fit of utter despair. As 
to finding her way home alone through all that 


LULU’S PENANCE 


171 

maze of streets, and in those dreadful shoes, the 
idea seemed simply impossible. But if she did 
not go home, what was to become of her? The 
thought of being a beggar, which had seemed 
so possible yesterday, seemed equally impossible 
this morning. She was very cold, very wet, and 
very hungry. She was sure that the pilgrims 
had never suffered as much as she was suffer- 
ing now. And then she thought of papa and 
mamma ; there came a great longing to see their 
dear faces, and hear their dear voices again, even 
if they were only to look sternly at her, and 
tell her how very, very wicked she had been. If 
she could only find her way home, it did not 
seem as if she should ever mind anything else — 
not even the loss of her curls. 

What did people do when they were lost? 
Gertie Rossiter’s little brother had been lost once, 
she remembered, and a policeman had brought 
him home. Of course that was the thing to do; 
she must find a policeman and tell him where she 
lived. How very stupid she had been not to 
have thought of that before. But there did not 
appear to be many policemen in that neighbor- 
hood; at least, she could not remember having 
seen one since she left Mrs. Vincenca’s, and she 
never could walk any distance alone in these big 


172 


LULU’S PENANCE 


shoes; they were half full of water already and 
her feet were very cold. Still, she would make 
an effort, and struggling to her feet, she began 
moving slowly and cautiously along the slippery 
pavement. 

She fell down twice before she reached the 
next corner, but fortunately she was not hurt and 
picked herself up each time, and struggled bravely 
on. If she could only find a policeman! And 
almost before she had dared to hope for such 
good fortune, she caught sight of one approach- 
ing on the other side of the street. 

Forgetful of ice, big shoes, and everything else, 
Lulu darted across the avenue between a horse 
car and a truck, and reached the opposite pave- 
ment just as the policeman was about to turn 
down a side street. 

“ Oh, please, Mr. Policeman, please stop,” 
panted the child ; “ I want to ask you, would you 
please be so very kind as to ” 

“ Get along with you ; I ain’t got nothing for 
you. You know very well street beggars ain’t 
allowed.” 

The policeman spoke so fiercely and waved his 
club in such a threatening manner that poor Lulu, 
in a perfect panic of terror, sprang away from 


LULU’S PENANCE 


173 


him, and in another moment he was gone, and 
Lulu had sunk down upon a doorstep, too 
frightened and exhausted to attempt to follow 
him. 

It was the last straw. She was a beggar after 
all, and in all probability would have to remain 
a beggar for the rest of her life, for she could 
never find her way home alone; of that she felt 
very sure. Even a policeman would have noth- 
ing to do with her. Perhaps papa and mamma 
would not know her without her curls and in 
those horrible rags. 

“ Halloa, kid! what yer cryin’ for?” 

The sound of a shrill voice close at her side 
caused Lulu to lift her head with a start. The 
speaker was a ragged boy of about her own age, 
or perhaps a little older, with a bundle of news- 
papers under his arm. The boy had a very dirty 
face, but he looked friendly, and poor Lulu’s 
heart instinctively went out to the first friendly 
face she had seen that morning. 

“ I’m lost,” she explained, making a mighty 
effort to check her sobs, “ and — and I don’t want 
to be a beggar.” 

“ Who says you’ve got to be?” inquired the 
boy, with evident interest. 


174 


LULU’S PENANCE 


“ Everybody thinks I am, because of my 
clothes, and a policeman shook his stick at me, 
and told me to go along.” 

The boy laughed. 

“Never you mind,” he said encouragingly ; 
“ peelers all talks that way, but they wouldn’t do 
nothin’ to you really. Here, I’ll give you some- 
thin’ good,” producing from his ragged pocket 
an apple with a rather large piece bitten out of 
it, and tossing it into her lap. “ It’s a good one, 
I can tell you. A man in the grocery store give 
it to me when he bought a paper.” 

“ Oh, thank you very much,” said Lulu with 
a grateful smile ; “ you are very kind.” 

“ Why don’t you eat it ? ” 

“ I don’t think I’m hungry just now,” faltered 
Lulu, “ and, besides, I’m so very unhappy.” A 
big sob finished the sentence. 

“ Did your mother send you out to beg? ” her 
new acquaintance inquired sympathetically. 

“ My mother — oh, no, indeed ; she doesn’t 
know where I am, and I’m afraid she has been 
dreadfully frightened about me, because, you see, 
I have never been out alone before, and I’ve been 
gone ever since last evening.” 

“ What did you go for? ” 

“ I had been very naughty, and I thought it 


LULU’S PENANCE 


1 75 


was the best way to do penance, but I never knew 
what a dreadful thing it was to be a beggar. And 
now I’m lost and nobody will believe me. And, 
oh, I want mamma — I want mamma/’ 

“ There now, stop your blubberin’ ; get up, 
and come along with me. I’ll take you home if 
you’ll only tell me where it is; but I guess you’ll 
catch it if you’ve been out all night.” 

“Will you really? Oh, how good you are! 
I shall be so very much obliged to you, and so 
will papa and mamma.” 

Lulu was struggling to her feet, her heart 
beating fast with sudden hope. 

“ All right ; come along. Give me your hand, 
or you’ll tumble down on this ice. Say, you 
ain’t going to leave that apple, be you ? ” 

“No, oh no; please excuse me — I’m afraid I 
was forgetting it. You see, I was so happy 
when you said you would take me home that I 
didn’t think about anything else.” 

“ That’s all right, but ain’t you going to 
eat it?” 

“ I will if you want me to very much,” said 
Lulu, hesitatingly, “but I would really a little 
rather not.” 

“ Oh, don’t, if you ain’t hungry, but it does 
seem a kind of a pity to waste it, don’t it? So 


LULU’S PENANCE 


176 

s’pose you give it back to me. I ain’t had much 
breakfast to speak of.” 

With a feeling of decided relief, Lulu returned 
the apple to its original owner, and he had very 
soon disposed of the remaining portion in a most 
satisfactory manner. 

“ Now tell me where you hang out,” said the 
boy as they reached the street corner, Lulu cling- 
ing tightly to her new friend’s hand. 

“ I don’t think I know what you mean,” said 
the little girl, looking decidedly puzzled. 

“ Where does your pa hang out his sign ? ” 

“ Oh,” said Lulu, “ I understand you now, of 
course. He does have a sign, but I had for- 
gotten about it. It says ‘ Dr. C. M. Bell ’ on it, 
and the number is Madison Avenue.” 

To her dismay, her companion instantly 
dropped her hand, regarding her with an 
expression of decided disapproval. 

“Aw, what yer givin’ us?” he ejaculated in 
a tone of so much disgust that poor Lulu’s heart 
sank again. 

“ What do you mean? ” she inquired timidly. 

“ You don’t catch no flies on me. What yer 
stuffln’ me for? ” 

“ I don’t understand you at all,” said Lulu, 
beginning to cry again. “ You asked me where 


LULU’S PENANCE 


1 77 

my papa hung out his sign, and I told you, and 
now you look as if you thought I was telling a 
story.” 

“ Shut up that snivelin’ ; I ain't mad, but I 
say, what you want to tell me lies for ? ” 

“ I didn’t— oh, I didn’t,” gasped Lulu ; “ I 
wouldn’t do such a thing for the world — what 
makes you think I would ? ” 

“ What yer take me for? Your pa hangs out 
on Madison Avenue — yes, I guess so ! ” 

“ But he does — he truly does,” cried Lulu, 
clasping her hands and raising her eyes implor- 
ingly to her companion’s incredulous face. 

“ My papa is a doctor, and we do live at 

Madison Avenue. I ran away to be a beggar 
because I had been naughty, and I wanted to 
do penance like the pilgrims. I met a woman 
named Mrs. Vincenca, and I asked her to take 
me home with her, so I could get ragged clothes 
and a basket. She said her baby was very sick, 
but when we got to her house there wasn’t any 
baby at all, only Mr. Vincenca. I begged them 
to take me home last night, but they wouldn’t, 
and I had to sleep on the floor, and oh, it was 
dreadfully dirty. And this morning when I woke 
up all my clothes were gone, and Mrs. Vin- 
cenca made me put on these, and then she cut 


LULU’S PENANCE 


178 

off my curls, and took me out in the street. And 
when we had gone a little way she told me I 
must go home alone, and I didn’t know the way, 
and I kept falling down on the ice, and — and — 
that’s all.” 

The newsboy’s dirty face had been growing 
more and more puzzled as Lulu went on with her 
story, and now he stood staring at her, his eyes 
and mouth very wide open indeed. He was 
known as one of the smartest of his set, and to 
be taken in, and by a girl, too, was considered by 
newsboys in general to be little short of dis- 
grace. He did not believe the story, and yet 
something in the child’s earnest manner im- 
pressed him in spite of himself. 

“ Well,” he said slowly, as Lulu paused for 
breath, “ if you ain’t the queerest little kid I ever 
did see. I guess you’re stuffin’ me, but I’ll tell 
you what I’ll do. I’ll take you to the place you 
say you live at, and if I find you’ve been foolin’ 
me, you can just make up your mind to the worst 
lickin’ you ever got in your life. Now come 
along.” 

Lulu concluded that her companion was a very 
strange boy indeed, and not at all polite, but was 
too thankful at the prospect of being taken home 
to be very critical about her escort, and the two 



“ If you ain’t the queerest little kid I EVER did see.” 

Page 178. 




























































































































LULU’S PENANCE 


179 

children were soon walking along together hand 
in hand, quite as if they had been friends of years 
instead of moments. They were obliged to walk 
very slowly on account of the slippery sidewalks, 
and also on account of Lulu’s tired feet. The 
child was nearly worn out, from the combined 
effects of hunger, excitement, and remorse. 

“ Say ! you’s awful tired, ain’t you ? ” said the 
boy, suddenly breaking silence and looking 
down at his little companion with sympathetic 
interest. 

“ I am pretty tired,” Lulu admitted, with an 
effort to speak cheerfully, “ but I suppose we 
shall be at home very soon now.” 

The boy shook his head. 

“ It’s a goodish walk to Madison Avenue, 
yet,” he said. “ Say ! I wonder if I couldn’t 
carry you on my back ; you’re such a little kid.” 

“ Oh, what a very kind boy you are,” ex- 
claimed Lulu, with genuine admiration, “ but I 
would really rather walk. I’m pretty heavy, 
you know, and, besides, you’re not so very much 
bigger than I am — how old are you ? ” 

“ Ten, goin’ on eleven.” 

“ And I was nine in December, but my most 
intimate friend, Minnie Hunt, is nearly eleven. 
Would you mind telling me what your name is? ” 


! 8 o LULU'S PENANCE 

“ Jimmie Corrigan.” 

“ Jimmie, that’s short for James, isn’t it? 
Minnie Hunt has an Uncle James — do you live 
near here ? ” 

“ I live on First Avenue.” 

“ Have you got a papa and mamma, and 
brothers and sisters ? ” 

“ Got a ma ; pa’s dead. Got two sisters and 
one brother, but they’s all kids. I’m the biggest, 
and I earns the tin.” 

“ That’s very nice,” said Lulu, looking a little 
puzzled, however, “ but — but, what do you do 
with it when you have earned it? ” 

“ Do with what? ” 

“ The tin — didn’t you say you earned the tin ? ” 

Jimmie Corrigan chuckled; this little kid was 
something quite new in his experience. 

“ Tin means money,” he said in explanation. 

“Oh, does it? I didn’t know. How do you 
do it?” 

“ I sells papers,” said Jimmie, with evident 
pride in his profession. 

“ It’s very sad about your papa, isn’t it? ” said 
Lulu, feeling that she must keep up the conversa- 
tion or her companion might think her lacking 
in interest in his affairs. “ I think if my papa 
should die it would break my heart.” 


LULU’S PENANCE 


181 


“ He wasn’t no good,” said Jimmie, with some 
contempt ; “ he didn’t do nothin’ but go on 
strikes.” 

Lulu blushed ; she feared that she had touched 
upon a painful subject, and hastened to change it. 

“ Tell me about your little sisters and brother,” 
she said ; “ I haven’t any sisters or brothers at 
all ; I sometimes wish I had.” 

“ They’s only kids ; kids ain’t much good to 
fool with.” 

Lulu remembered that the boy had called her 
a kid, and was inclined to feel rather hurt at 
this remark. But she did not want to appear 
offended, so after a moment’s silence she inquired 
politely — 

“ Isn’t your mamma very proud of you for 
earning money ? ” 

The boy’s face brightened. 

“ She likes it,” he said, “ and I give her all I 
makes — every penny of it. The fellers laughs at 
me, but I don’t care if they do. She’s awful 
good to me, and she’s sick, too.” 

“ You are a very good boy,” said Lulu in a 
tone of settled conviction ; “ I shall tell papa and 
mamma and Aunt Daisy about you, and papa 
will go to see your mother and make her well. 
I was going to ask him to go and see Mrs. 


LULU’S PENANCE 


1 8 2 

Vincenca’s baby, but there wasn’t any, after 
all.” 

“ Say, that’s jolly! Is your pa a regular doc- 
tor, though, no foolin’ ? ” 

“ Of course he is; he is the very best doctor in 
the world. You must come in with me, and I’ll 
introduce him to you. I know he’ll want to 
thank you for bringing me home.” 

Jimmie made no remark beyond a somewhat 
incredulous stare, and as poor Lulu was almost 
too tired to talk, they walked on in silence. As 
they drew near their destination Lulu’s heart 
began to beat very fast again, and when they 
actually turned into the well-known avenue her 
knees shook so that she could scarcely stand. 

“ That’s it — that’s my home,” she said in a 
breathless whisper. “ There’s a cab just stop- 
ping at the door, and there’s — oh, papa, papa ! ” 
Jimmie Corrigan stood rooted to the spot, star- 
ing with all his might, and scarcely able to 
believe the evidence of his senses. For, with 
a shrill, joyful cry, his little companion had 
dropped his hand and sprung forward straight 
into the arms of a tall, pale gentleman, who hacj 
just alighted from a cab, and who, instead of 
pushing her roughly away, as the boy fully ex- 
pected to see him do, had snatched her up, and 


LULU’S PENANCE 


183 

was actually hugging her as if he could never 
let her go again, and covering her grimy little 
face with kisses. 

“ Well, if this ain’t the rummest go I ever 
see,” exclaimed the boy in a low, astonished 
voice. “ She wasn’t stuffin’ me, after all — well, 
of all the funny little kids ! ” 


CHAPTER VI 


I T was late in the afternoon of the same day. 
All the bustle and excitement were over at 
last, and Lulu, very tired still, but washed 
and combed, and wearing her pretty pink wrap- 
per — was lying on Aunt Daisy’s bed, close beside 
the poor invalid, who, after all the terrible hours 
of anxiety and suspense, now felt as if she could 
not be separated from her darling for a moment. 
Papa and mamma both sat by the fire ; they, too, 
looked pale and tired, but very happy. In their 
joy and relief at getting her back, I am afraid 
no one had remembered to scold Lulu as much as 
she deserved. Perhaps they thought that her 
night at Mrs. Vincenca’s had been quite penance 
enough, without any further punishment. But 
Lulu herself was not quite satisfied with the state 
of affairs. 

She had been lying very still for some time, 
and they all thought she had fallen asleep, but 
suddenly she opened her eyes, and made one of 
her odd, old-fashioned remarks. 

“ I’ve been thinking,” she said very slowly, 
“ what I can possibly do to show you how ter- 
184 


LULU’S PENANCE 185 

ribly, terribly sorry I am. I know now that it 
was naughtier to run away to be a beggar, even, 
than to leave my toys about where Aunt Daisy 
could fall over them. I didn’t think at first how 
dreadful it would be, or that papa would have to 
be out all night, and mamma and Aunt Daisy so 
very unhappy. I do think I ought to be pun- 
ished, and I’ve been wondering if there isn’t 
some better way of doing penance than being 
a beggar.” 

“ Don’t you think you have done penance 
enough ? ” Dr. Bell asked, smiling. Aunt Daisy 
drew her pet closer, and stroked the shorn head 
with loving fingers. 

“ No, I don’t,” said Lulu, sorrowfully. “ I 
know I’ve been very wicked, and I really don’t 
think I deserve to have you all love me any more. 
But you do, just the same as if I hadn’t done it, 
don’t you ? ” 

“ Just the same,” said papa and mamma both 
together. Aunt Daisy said nothing, but her 
kisses and her happy tears were quite answer 
enough. 

“ Well, it does seem as if I ought to be pun- 
ished, and I wish I could think of something I 
could do. If I could fall and hurt my knee like 
Aunt Daisy, it might be something.” 


jS6 LULU’S PENANCE * 

“ My darling child, do get that dreadful idea 
of penance out of your head,” exclaimed mamma 
nervously. “ Where in the world you got it 
from in the first place is more than I can 
imagine.” 

“ I know it wouldn’t do,” said Lulu reassur- 
ingly, “ for then you would all have to take care 
of me, and that would be very hard, especially 
while Aunt Daisy was ill ; but I think I know of 
a thing I can do, and that you won’t any of you 
mind.” 

“ What is it ? ” Dr. Bell inquired, trying to 
look serious. 

“ Well, I’ve made up my mind never, never 
again as long as I live, to think I’m better than 
anybody else, not even burglars. It will be hard 
at first, I know it will, especially if I see the girls 
at school doing things Miss Lathrop doesn’t like ; 
but perhaps if I keep on trying all the time it 
may get easier by and by, and if I ever find I’m 
forgetting, and beginning to be conceited again, 
why, I can just think about how dreadfully 
wicked I’ve been, and then it will be all right.” 

Mamma looked as if she wanted to say some- 
thing, but papa smiled and shook his head at her. 

“ Not a bad idea, after all,” he said in a low 
tone that Lulu could not hear ; “ you must admit, 


LULU’S PENANCE 187 

Jessie dear, that the child was becoming some- 
thing of a little prig.” 

Aunt Daisy heard the words, though her little 
niece did not, and she hugged Lulu tight in silent 
indignation. But Aunt Daisy was a wise little 
woman, and knew much better than to interfere 
with any of papa’s decisions. So they were all 
silent for a few moments, until Lulu asked 
suddenly — 

“ Did you really go home with Jimmie, papa, 
and did you see his mother and his little sisters 
and brother? ” 

“ Yes, and I am inclined to think very well of 
the family, too. They are wretchedly poor, and 
the mother is far from strong, but she seems a 
good, respectable sort of woman, and her devo- 
tion to that boy of hers is really touching.” 

“ He is a very good boy, I’m sure,” said Lulu, 
thoughtfully, “ even if he does talk dreadful 
slang, and isn’t very polite. He wanted me to 
eat his apple, and he hadn’t had much breakfast 
himself, he told me so.” 

“ He was hungry, no mistake about that,” said 
Dr. Bell, laughing. “ I never before in my life 
saw any one single boy make away with such a 
breakfast as he did this morning. He seems 
a nice, manly little fellow, and I am going to 


1 88 


LULU'S PENANCE 


see if I cannot find him some better occupation 
than selling newspapers. But here comes Jane 
to say that your supper is ready, and I want you 
to go to bed very early to-night. You are quite 
tired out, as indeed we all are ; so kiss Aunt Daisy 
good-night, and I’ll carry you to the nursery 
pig-a-back.” 

“ Good-night, Aunt Daisy, darling,” Lulu 
whispered ; “ I’ll read to you all day to-morrow, 
and every day you have to stay in bed. You’re 
quite, quite sure you don’t mind about my 
curls?” 

“ Oh, my darling, don’t talk about it. I am so 
happy to get you back again, my own precious, 
that I shouldn’t care if your head were as bald 
as old Mr. Thompson’s.” 

“ Papa,” said Lulu, clinging round her father’s 
neck, as he carried her away to the nursery, 
“ you are sure you really do love me just every 
bit as much as ever, even though you did say 
once you were afraid you couldn’t if I were ever 
unkind to Aunt Daisy ? ” 

“ I think, Lulu,” he answered, holding her 
close, “ that I should love you just as much what- 
ever happened; but I want my little girl to grow 
up to be a dear, good woman, whom everyone 
will love and respect, and not into a foolish, con- 


LULU’S PENANCE 


189 

ceited person, who thinks she is better than other 
people, and knows more than those who are older 
and wiser than herself. ,, 

“ That’s just what I want to be,” said Lulu 
softly, “ and really good people never think they 
are better than others, do they ? ” 

“ No, never.” 

“ Aunt Daisy never talks about how brave she 
was when she saved me from the fire, and mamma 
never tells people about how she goes to read 
to that cross old blind woman. And I want to 
be just like mamma and Aunt Daisy when I 
grow up — oh, papa, I will try — I truly, truly 
will.” 

And Lulu has kept her word. She is still 
considered a remarkable child, and people still 
praise her more than is very wise, but she has 
quite lost that little complacent, well-satisfied ex- 
pression which sometimes used to annoy papa. 
She has been doing a good deal of thinking lately, 
and the other morning as she and Minnie Hunt 
were walking together as usual, she suddenly 
began upon a subject about which she had been 
somewhat uncomfortable for some time. 

“ Minnie,” she began, taking advantage of a 
pause in the conversation, “ there’s something 


190 


LULU'S PENANCE 


I’ve been wanting to say to you for several days, 
but I haven’t quite liked to.” 

“ What is it?” inquired Minnie, in a tone of 
some anxiety. “ You didn’t tell what I told you 
about what my mother said ? ” 

“ You mean about papa and mamma being 
worldly people? No, of course, I didn’t; I 
promised, you know. But, Minnie, it isn’t true, 
I’m quite sure it isn’t, and what I wanted to tell 
you — you won’t be offended, will you? I was 
afraid you might be, because you admired me 
so very much, but I’ve been thinking about it a 
great deal lately, and I don’t think I quite approve 
of Elsie Dinsmore.” 

“You don’t approve of Elsie Dinsmore!” 
exclaimed Minnie, her eyes opening wide in 
genuine horror. 

“ No, Minnie, I don’t. I’m very sorry if it 
hurts your feelings, but I can’t help it. I don’t 
think she ought to have felt that she knew better 
than her papa about things, not even about play- 
ing on the piano on Sunday. Perhaps he wasn’t 
a good man, but he was her papa, anyway, and 
I don’t believe it can be right for little girls ever 
to think they know more than their relations — 
no, not even for the sake of converting people, or 
going to be missionaries.” 


When Eva Was Seven 




% 






























{ I 
















































/ 









When Eva Was Seven 


CHAPTER I 

I T was very dull in the nursery. Out of 
doors the world was all bathed in bright 
May sunshine, and through the open win- 
dow came the voices of children at play in the 
street below. Eva had peeked at them wistfully 
more than once, and Maudie Elliott and Bessie 
Lowe, her two particular friends, had looked up 
and beckoned to her to join them, but Eva had 
shaken her head mournfully and turned away 
with a regretful sigh. All the afternoon the 
little girl had been left alone to amuse herself 
as best she could, for no sooner was the nursery 
dinner cleared away than Lizzie had announced 
her intention of going out. 

“ I’ve just got to get a new hat and a few 
other things,” she had explained, “ and my 
cousin, Ellen McCarthy, ’s promised to go with 
me this afternoon. I won’t be any longer than I 
can help, so mind you’re a good girl, Miss Eva, 
and don’t get into no mischief while I’m gone.” 
193 


194 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


“ Can’t I go out ? ” Eva had ventured to in- 
quire timidly. 

“ Go out by yourself — good gracious, no ! 
Who ever heard of such a thing? You’ve got 
plenty of things to amuse yourself with, I’m 
sure, and it isn’t going to hurt you to stay in the 
house for one afternoon.” 

So Eva had submitted, as she always had to do 
where Lizzie was concerned, and the maid had 
started on her shopping expedition, soothing her 
conscience by remarking to Delia, the new cham- 
bermaid, that she wished she’d just look in now 
and then to see that that child was all right. 
Delia had promised, fully intending to keep her 
word, but shortly after Lizzie’s departure her 
sister from the country had dropped in to see 
her, and the recollection of the little lonely girl 
in the nursery had been quite driven from her 
mind. 

Eva was accustomed to amusing herself. 
Aunt Florence, who attended lectures on the 
bringing up of children, had a theory that a 
child should be taught to rely upon its own 
resources for amusements, and she had so much 
to do with her many charities and her social 
duties that she seldom had a moment to devote 
to her little niece. Grandpa was devoted to the 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


195 


child, but he, too, was very busy, for he was at 
his bank all day and often did not get home till 
it was almost the little girl’s bedtime. They 
were both very kind to the child, and it would 
have been a great shock to them had they been 
told that Eva was often very lonely. 

On this particular day, as it happened, they 
had both gone out of town to a wedding, and 
were not to return until late in the evening, so 
there was not even the prospect of watching 
Aunt Florence dress for dinner to look forward 
to, or coaxing her for one of her rare stories. 
Perhaps Lizzie had remembered that fact when 
she selected this afternoon to go shopping with 
her cousin, Ellen McCarthy. 

For a long time the dolls kept Eva busy. She 
pretended that they all had “ scarlet fever,” and 
as she had to take the parts of anxious mother, 
doctor, and trained nurse all herself, she had 
plenty to think about, but at last the family was 
all put to sleep, lulled by the strains of the music- 
box, which Eva wound up for the occasion; and 
then time began to hang very heavily on her 
hands. 

“ I wish I could read,” she said with a regret- 
ful glance in the direction of the bookcase, “ but 
I don’t know any of the long words and it isn’t 


196 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

interesting to read just the little ones. O dear, 
I wish I was bigger! It’s very stupid to be only 
seven.” 

Eva went over to the window, where she stood 
for several minutes looking down into the street. 
It was a very quiet street, but by looking out 
of the window and craning her neck a little she 
could catch a glimpse of the broad river only 
half a block away, and see the line of carriages 
continually passing up and down Riverside Drive. 
Maudie and Bessie, with several other little girls, 
were playing house in one of the areas, and Eva 
stifled another sigh as she watched them. 

Just then the door of one of the opposite 
houses opened and a lady came out. Eva knew 
her, for she was Bessie’s mother, and as she came 
down the steps, Bessie left her companions and 
ran to meet her. “ I’m going to the park with 
mother,” she called in explanation, and next mo- 
ment she and the lady were walking away to- 
gether. Eva’s face brightened. 

“ That’s what I shall do when my mother 
comes home,” she said out loud. “ I shall be 
playing on the sidewalk with the others, and I 
shall see her coming down the steps, and I shall 
run to meet her, and we’ll go to the park, and 
perhaps she’ll let me ride on one of the donkeys 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


197 

and have a sail in the swan boats. Oh, angels, 
won’t it be lovely? ” 

There was nobody to answer, but Eva went 
on as if speaking to some invisible person. 
“ Then on our way home we shall meet my 
father, and all go for a walk together, and per- 
haps if it’s near my birthday or Christmas, we 
shall stop at a toy store and buy ” 

Eva broke off abruptly and grew rather red. 
She had suddenly become aware of the fact that 
she was no longer alone in the nursery. Delia’s 
sister from the country had gone home, and the 
chambermaid, suddenly remembering her prom- 
ise to Lizzie, had run up to see how Miss Eva 
was amusing herself. She was standing in the 
doorway regarding the child with an expression 
of good-natured amusement on her plain, honest 
face. 

“ Whatever are you talking to yourself for like 
that, Miss Eva?” she inquired curiously, ad- 
vancing into the room as she spoke. “ Don’t 
you know it’s silly to talk out loud when there’s 
nobody to hear?” 

Eva’s cheeks were scarlet and her eyes drooped, 
but she answered somewhat defiantly — 

“ I wasn’t talking to myself ; I was only talk- 
ing to the angels.” 


198 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

“ The angels ! ” repeated Delia in growing be- 
wilderment. “ Well, I never ! Do you mean 
the angels up in the sky can hear what you say 
to them ? ” 

“ They’re not up in the sky,” said Eva, 
“they’re just my angels; the good one and the 
bad one, you know. Everybody has a good 
angel and a bad angel. The good one is on the 
right side and the bad one on the left. Lizzie 
read me about it in a story. When you’re good 
it’s because the good angel is whispering to you, 
but when you’re naughty, the bad one is talking. 
Nobody can see them, but they are there all the 
time.” 

“ Well, you are a queer young one,” remarked 
'Delia, laughing. “ I never heard such a funny 
notion. I just came up to see what you were 
about, and if there was anything you wanted. 
Lizzie told me to have an eye on you.” 

“ I should like to have you stay with me,” said 
Eva, who had taken rather a fancy to the good- 
natured Irish girl, even though she objected to 
being called “ a queer young one.” “ All the 
dolls have gone to sleep and I haven’t anything 
else to play with.” 

“ All right,” said Delia, settling herself com- 
fortably in Lizzie’s rocker. “ I don’t mind if I do 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


199 


stay a little while, seeing all the family’s away 
and I haven’t got to help in the dining-room. 
Come and tell me some more about them angels.” 

Eva was quite willing to talk about the angels 
or anything else, so she submitted to being lifted 
into Delia’s lap and prepared to entertain her 
visitor. 

“ It’s very nice to know they’re always here, 
even if you can’t see them,” she went on, resting 
her head comfortably against Delia’s shoulder. 
“ I used to be afraid in the dark, especially the 
nights when Lizzie was out, but now that I know 
the angels are here, I’m not afraid any more. 
You see the good angel wouldn’t let anything 
happen.” 

“ But there’s the bad one,” suggested Delia, 
looking puzzled. 

“ I know,” said Eva, “ I used to be a little 
worried about that, but I don’t believe it is really 
so very bad. I feel quite sorry for the poor bad 
angel because I don’t suppose many people love 
it, and so I try to be very kind to it, and I’m sure 
it wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” 

“ Of course it wouldn’t,” declared Delia, 
giving the little figure in her lap an impetuous 
hug. “ Nothing would hurt a nice little girl 
like you.” 


200 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


Eva looked doubtful. 

“ Don’t you think the ‘ Black Man ’ would ? ” 
she inquired anxiously. “ I’m sometimes afraid 
he might if the good angel didn’t frighten him 
away.” 

“ What ‘ Black Man/ the one that comes to 
clean the windows ? ” 

“ Oh, no,” said Eva, indignantly. “ He’s 
only a colored gentleman, Lizzie says, and I 
think he’s very kind. Once some of my paper 
dolls blew out of the window and he went down 
and picked them all up. I mean the wicked 
‘ Black Man ’ that lives in the chimney. He 
comes in the night when people have been very 
naughty and takes them away in his bag.” 

“ Who ever told you such nonsense ? ” de- 
manded Delia with rising indignation. 

Eva’s grave little face brightened suddenly. 

“ Do you really think it’s nonsense ? ” she in- 
quired in a tone of relief. 

“ Of course it is,” said Delia, decidedly. “ If 
Lizzie tells you such things she ought to be 
ashamed of herself.” 

“ I’m very glad,” said Eva. “ I have thought 
sometimes that perhaps it wasn’t true, because 
Lizzie said I must never talk to Grandpa or Aunt 
Florence about it; but I wasn’t sure. It isn’t 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


201 


nonsense about the angels, though, because that’s 
in a book.” 

“ Oh, I guess the angels are all right,” said 
Delia, smiling, “ but it’s too bad you haven’t 
got anyone else to talk to. Does Lizzie often 
go out like this and leave you alone all the 
afternoon ? ” 

“ Not very often, only when Aunt Florence 
is away. She had to go to-day because she had 
an engagement with Ellen McCarthy. Do you 
know Ellen McCarthy ? ” 

“No!” said Delia, and she looked as if she 
did not feel any very strong desire to make Miss 
McCarthy’s acquaintance. “ She’s a very nice 
lady,” said Eva. “ She comes to see Lizzie quite 
often, and once she told me a story about the two 
little boys she takes care of. I think they must 
be very happy little boys; they have such beau- 
tiful toys, and they’ve got a father and a mother, 
too.” 

“ Most children have fathers and mothers,” 
said Delia. “ Are yours both dead, and is that 
why you live with your Grandpa and Aunt ? ” 

“ Oh, no,” said Eva, “ my father and mother 
aren’t dead; they’re only in the Philippines, and 
some day they are coming home. My mother 
writes me letters and Aunt Florence reads them 


202 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


to me. I can’t remember her because I was only- 
three when she went away, but I’ve got her pic- 
ture and my father’s, too. Would you like to 
see them ? ” 

Delia said she would, and slipping down from 
her new friend’s lap, Eva ran to the bureau, 
whence she returned bearing in each hand a 
photograph in a bright silver frame. One pic- 
ture represented a young man in the uniform of 
an army officer; the other was that of a very 
pretty young lady with eyes like Eva’s. 

“Aren’t they beautiful?” inquired the little 
girl, gazing with admiring eyes at the two pho- 
tographs. “ I think my mother is the prettiest 
lady in the world.” 

“ She’s just lovely,” agreed the good-natured 
Delia. “ But what made her go away so far, 
and why didn’t she take you with her? ” 

“ Why, you see,” Eva explained, “ my father 
is a very brave soldier. He has been in real 
battles. Soldiers can’t always live where they 
would like to, Grandpa says, so he had to go 
to the Philippines, and of course my mother 
couldn’t let him go alone. They wanted very 
much to take me with them, but the climate in 
the Philippines is very bad for children, and a 
doctor said it would make me ill if I went. My 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


203 


mother was very unhappy about it and my father 
wanted her to stay at home, too, but Aunt Flor- 
ence says that wouldn’t have been right, so they 
went and I stayed here with Grandpa.” 

“ And they’ve never seen you since you were 
three years old ? ” inquired Delia sympathetic- 
ally. 

“ No. You see the Philippines is a very long 
way off, and it costs a great deal of money to 
go there. My father hasn’t very much money, 
and that’s why he can’t come home, but mother 
thinks they will be able, to come pretty soon now. 
She wrote about it and she said, ‘ Sometimes I 
feel as if I couldn’t wait to see my own darling 
little Eva. My heart is so full of love and 
longing.’ I made Aunt Florence read that part 
over ever so many times so I could learn it, and 
I say it to myself every night before I go to 
sleep. It’s so beautiful. I wish I had a very 
great deal of money.” 

“ What would you do with it? ” Delia inquired 
with interest. 

“ Give it all to my father so he wouldn’t have 
to stay in the Philippines any more, and we could 
all live together in a beautiful house and have a 
pony and a carriage, and, oh ! lots of other 
things.” 


204 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


“ Too bad you haven’t got the ‘ Loogetharn 
purse,’ ” said Delia, good-naturedly. 

“ What’s that? ” 

“ Didn’t you ever hear tell about the ‘ Loo- 
getharn purse ’ ? ” 

“ No, never,” said Eva. “ Please tell me 
about it.” 

“ Well, the * Loogetharn ’ is a little man about 
a foot high, and he lives in the long grass. He 
sleeps ’most all day, but if you get up early in 
the morning, just about as soon it’s light, and 
go out in the long grass, and say, ‘ Loogetharn, 
Loogetharn, give me your purse,’ he’ll come and 
give it to you.” 

“ Is there money in it ? ” Eva asked breath- 
lessly. 

“ I should think so. It’s a purse full of gold, 
and the best thing about it is, it never gets 
empty. Just as fast as you spend what’s in it, 
it fills right up again, and so you can always be 
as rich as a king.” 

“ It’s very wonderful,” said Eva, her big, ear- 
nest brown eyes fixed intently on Delia’s face. 
“ Did you ever know anybody who got the 
Loogetharn purse ? ” 

“ Well, no, I can’t rightly say as I did, but 
I’ve heard about it often enough. My mother 



“Is THERE MONEY IN IT?” EVA ASKED BREATHLESSLY. 

Page 204. 


v.v.-.v.v rill ■MUAv.'iV! 




WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


205 

used to tell me the story when I was a little girl 
in the old country.” 

“ Does the Loogetharn always come when 
people call him ? ” 

“ Well, maybe he doesn’t. They say he likes 
to fool people, too, so when he gives you the first 
purse you must throw it away because it’s just 
full of grass, and say ‘ Loogetharn, Loogetharn, 
give me the right purse.’ Then he’ll give you 
a second one and it’ll be very heavy, but if you’ll 
look inside you’ll find it is just full of stones, 
so you must throw that one away, too, and say 
for the third time, ‘Loogetharn, Loogetharn, 
give me your purse,’ and the third time never 
fails, for that’s all the purses the Loogetharn’s 
got, and if you get the right one, you’ll be rich 
forevermore.” 

“ I wish I could find the Loogetharn,” said 
Eva eagerly. “ Does he always live in the long 
grass ? ” 

“ Always,” said Delia with decision. 

“ And there isn’t any grass at all here. There 
was a grass plot in the yard once, but Grandpa 
had flags put down over it. O dear! I’m very 
sorry. It would be so beautiful to have the 
Loogetharn purse ! ” 

“ Do you go to the country in the summer?” 


20 6 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

said Delia, anxious to banish the shadow from 
the little face that a moment before had been so 
bright. 

“ Oh, yes, we’re going to Locust, New Jersey, 
on the tenth of June. Grandpa has taken a 
house there for the summer, and Aunt Florence 
says it’s very pretty. Do you suppose I might 
find the Loogetharn there ? ” 

“ We can’t never tell till we try,” said Delia, 
laughing. 

“ Oh, here comes Lizzie ! Well, Lizzie, here 
I am minding your little girl, you see, and she’s 
been just as good as gold.” 

Lizzie was very well pleased to find her charge 
being so well entertained, and it did not occur 
to her to inquire how Eva had been amusing 
herself all the afternoon. She was in very good 
spirits, however, having had a most successful 
shopping expedition, and she made herself so 
agreeable for the rest of the day that when 
she said to Eva just before her bedtime, “You 
needn’t say anything to your aunt about my just 
running out those few minutes this afternoon,” 
the little girl readily promised to make no 
remarks on the subject. 

Eva did not mention the Loogetharn to Lizzie, 
although she thought a great deal about the 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


207 


matter herself. Lizzie had a disagreeable way 
of laughing at stories she had not told herself, 
and Eva did not like being laughed at. 

“ Perhaps I shall never be able to find him,” 
she confided to the angels that evening, “ and 
then Lizzie needn’t know anything about it. But 
if I should, and if he would really give me the 
purse full of gold, oh, it would be so beautiful ! ” 
Eva was in bed and asleep before her grand- 
father and aunt returned, but they were both at 
the breakfast table when she came down next 
morning, and old Mr. Gillespie was rather sur- 
prised to have his little granddaughter inquire, 
as she lifted her face for his morning kiss, 
“ Grandpa, is there any long grass at Locust ? ” 
“ Plenty of it, I should say,” replied Grandpa 
with a smile. “ What do you want to do in the 
long grass, eh ? ” Eva grew very red, but before 
she could answer, Aunt Florence, who was in a 
hurry, called her to come and eat her breakfast 
before it was cold, and Grandpa apparently forgot 
his question. 


CHAPTER II 


W HEN a little girl is only seven, a 
month is apt to seem a rather long 
time, and it had seemed to Eva on 
the day when she first heard of the “ Loogetharn’s 
purse,” that the tenth of June was a very long 
way off indeed. But time will pass, even when 
it appears to drag most heavily, and before she 
quite realized it, three weeks had slipped away, 
and curtains were being taken down, while the 
furniture began to wear linen covers. A num- 
ber of trunks were brought out, and Aunt Flor- 
ence and Lizzie were very busy putting things 
into them. Eva greatly enjoyed the pleasant 
bustle, and found it hard to sympathize with 
Lizzie, who complained bitterly about the pros- 
pect of being “ buried in the country” for the 
whole summer. 

“ The country is very beautiful, Lizzie,” she 
explained consolingly. “ You can walk on the 
grass and pick all the flowers you want to, and 
there aren’t any policemen to scold about it. 
Grandpa says I’m to have a little garden for my 
208 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


209 

very own, and there's a river, and — and — oh, 
Lizzie, dear, I’m quite sure you’ll love it ! ” 

But Lizzie, who was not fond of the country, 
was not at all sure, and was so cross in conse- 
quence that Eva left her to finish the packing by 
herself, and went off in quest of Delia, who was 
always kind. 

At last there were only two more days to wait, 
and Eva was so happy when she thought of the 
coming pleasures that she took to skipping about 
the nursery in a way that Lizzie said reminded 
her of a chicken with its head off. Eva had 
never seen a chicken without a head, but she did 
not altogether like the comparison. 

Then just when everything was ready — 
when the first load had actually been sent off, and 
Aunt Florence and Lizzie were putting the last 
things into the remaining trunks — everything 
was suddenly changed. A telegram arrived to 
say that Aunt Helen Ashton — Grandpa’s mar- 
ried daughter, who lived in St. Louis — was very 
ill, and that Grandpa and Aunt Florence must 
come to her at once. 

“ What shall we do about Eva ? ” Aunt Flor- 
ence inquired in dismay, as she glanced around 
the dismantled house. “ Nearly everything has 
gone, and I am afraid she will be ill if we leave 


210 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


her in the city this hot weather. It may be weeks 
before Helen is well enough for us to come back.” 

“ Couldn’t she go to Locust with Lizzie and 
the other servants ? ” Grandpa asked. “ The 
house there is all in order, and it would be pleas- 
anter for her than staying here.” 

After some further conversation, this plan was 
decided upon, much to the disgust of Lizzie, who 
would have much preferred remaining in the city 
until the family’s return. Eva, however, was de- 
lighted, and she said good-by to her grand- 
father and aunt next morning, having promised 
to be a very good girl, and watched them drive 
away to the station with the cheerful reflection 
that she and Lizzie and Delia were all going to 
Locust to-day. 

“ I suppose Lizzie is to be trusted in every 
way,” Mr. Gillespie said, a little anxiously, as 
the carriage turned the corner and he lost sight 
of the little figure waving to them from the front 
steps. 

Oh, perfectly,” his daughter answered with 
decision. “ I had an excellent reference from her 
last place, and I think Eva seems quite fond of 
her.” 

And then, as they were both very anxious 
about poor Aunt Helen, they said no more on the 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


211 


subject, and had soon forgotten all about Lizzie, 
and almost about Eva, too, in their anxiety to 
reach St. Louis with as little delay as possible. 

Locust really was a very lovely place. Eva 
had made up her mind to that fact even before 
they had reached the pretty cottage that Grandpa 
had hired for the summer. 

“ There’s long grass, whole fields of it,” she 
cried joyfully, as they were driving from the sta- 
tion. “ Oh, Delia, do you suppose the Looge- 
tharn is there ? ” 

But Delia, who was on the front seat, and hap- 
pened at the moment to be talking to the driver, 
did not appear to have heard the question. 

“ What’s a Loogetharn ? ” Lizzie inquired, 
rather scornfully. 

“ It’s — it’s a thing Delia and I know about,” 
answered Eva, blushing, and just then the car- 
riage turned in at a gate, and Lizzie forgot to 
ask any more questions. 

There was a great deal to look at and admire 
that first afternoon. There was the broad piazza 
and the pretty lawn stretching down to the banks 
of the river. Then there were the flowers; be- 
fore Eva had been out of the carriage five minutes 
she had picked enough daisies to fill both the vases 
on the nursery mantel. The inside of the house, 


212 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


too, was very interesting and attractive. Two of 
the servants had arrived the day before, so that 
everything was in readiness for them, and as they 
did not reach Locust until late in the afternoon, 
Eva’s supper was ready long before the little girl 
had half finished admiring her new surroundings. 

“ It’s the most beautiful place in the world,” 
she announced with conviction, as she stood on 
a chair by the nursery window, and tried to get 
a peep at the baby robins in a nest she had dis- 
covered in a cherry tree close by. “ Oh, Lizzie, 
don’t you love it, now we’re here? ” 

But Lizzie, who was tired, and in a hurry for 
her supper, answered impatiently — 

“ Yes, it’s very pretty, but come now and get 
undressed. You’ve dawdled around quite long 
enough, and it’s half an hour past your bedtime.” 

Eva was a very happy little girl that night, and 
her last thought before she fell asleep, while the 
robins were still singing their evening song, 
was — 

“ I must be sure to wake up early. Delia says 
the Loogetharn comes only very early in the 
morning.” 

The birds were again singing when Eva 
opened her eyes, and it was broad daylight. She 
lay for some minutes, listening to the unusual 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


213 

sounds, and then she sat up in bed and looked 
about her. She was alone in the nursery, for Liz- 
zie was sleeping in a little room adjoining, and 
as there was no clock, she could not tell what time 
it was. 

“ I’m sure it must be very early,” she said to 
herself, “ everything is so still. Oh, I hope it 
isn't too late for the Loogetharn ! ” 

She jumped out of bed, and stealing on tiptoe 
to the door of communication between the nur- 
sery and Lizzie's room, peeped cautiously in. It 
was as she had hoped; the maid was still fast 
asleep. 

Eva's heart beat very fast indeed, as, having 
closed Lizzie’s door softly, she began to make her 
preparations. 

u I never dressed myself before,” she remarked 
rather doubtfully, regarding the pile of little gar- 
ments that Lizzie had left neatly folded on a 
chair. “ Perhaps I'd better not try the bath ; it 
might disturb Lizzie if I let the water run, and it 
doesn't matter about the curls, and — and some 
other little things.” 

Dressing proved a more difficult task than Eva 
would have believed possible if she had not tried 
it, but she was a persevering little girl, and did 
not give up. It was a rather odd little figure that 


214 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


emerged from the nursery at last and stole softly 
down the stairs to the front hall. Her dress was 
unbuttoned, and so were her boots, and her hair 
hung in tangled disorder, but her clothes were on 
somehow, and that, after all, was the main thing. 
She found the lower part of the house quite de- 
serted. It was really after six o'clock, but the 
servants, tired from yesterday’s exertions, were 
indulging in an extra half-hour in bed. So there 
was no one to see the little girl as she cautiously 
turned the key in the front door and stepped out 
into the fresh morning air. 

It was very beautiful, and Eva drew a long 
breath of delight, but there was no time to be lost 
if she wished to catch the Loogetharn, so in an- 
other moment a little hatless figure was running 
across the lawn, her tangled curls blowing about 
wildly in the morning wind. 

“ I must find a place where the grass is very 
long,” she decided, and she hurried on past the 
stable and out-buildings until she reached a field 
separated from the path by a low stone wall. To 
climb the wall and alight on the other side was 
the work of a moment, and then she was standing 
knee deep in the wet grass. But now that the 
long-anticipated moment had actually arrived, her 
courage suddenly began to fail. 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


215 

“ I — I don’t think I quite like to call him,” she 
whispered to her confidants, the good and bad 
angels: “I — I think I’m just a little bit fright- 
ened. I forgot to ask Delia if the Loogetharn 
was a very ugly little man.” 

But there was no use in being frightened, es- 
pecially after taking so much trouble, so after a 
little more breathless hesitation Eva made up 
her mind. 

“ I’m going to do it,” she said in an awestruck 
whisper. 

“ You won’t let anything happen, will you, 
good angel ? ” 

Then she shut her eyes tight, clasped her hands, 
and said in a tremulous little voice — 

“ Please, Mr. Loogetharn, will you give me 
your purse? ” 

Delia had not told her to say Mr. Loogetharn, 
but she thought it might be more polite. She 
waited in breathless suspense for several seconds ; 
then she opened her eyes. The birds were sing- 
ing in the trees overhead, a toad hopped past her 
foot, but that was all. 

“ I’ll try again,” said Eva, trying not to give 
way to that dreadful sickening disappointment 
she felt creeping over her. “ Perhaps I oughtn’t 
to have called him Mr. Loogetharn.” 


21 6 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


So again she shut her eyes, and said, this time 
in a louder voice — 

“ Loogetharn, Loogetharn, give me your 
purse.” 

That surely ought to bring him, she thought, 
but there was not a rustle in the grass, and when 
she opened her eyes everything was just as it had 
been before. This time the disappointment was 
too keen to be borne in silence, and Eva burst 
into tears. 

“ He isn’t here, oh, he isn’t here,” wailed the 
poor little girl, sitting down in the long wet grass 
and letting her grief and disappointment have 
their way. “ He won’t ever come, and I won’t 
ever have the purse full of gold.” 

“ Halloa ! what yer cryin’ about ? ” 

At the sound of a shrill little voice close by 
Eva lifted her head with a start. A little boy 
of about her own age was perched on the stone 
wall, regarding her with evident curiosity. He 
had a round, freckled face, and a pair of merry 
blue eyes, and Eva decided at once that she rather 
liked his appearance. She hastily scrambled to 
her feet, and began a search in her pocket for the 
handkerchief that was not there. “ What yer 
cryin’ for? ” the boy repeated. “ Did yer tumble 
off the wall and get hurted ? ” 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


217 

“ No,” said Eva, abandoning the search for 
her handkerchief, and wiping her eyes on her 
sleeve instead. “ I didn’t hurt myself ; I was only 
crying because — do you know where the Looge- 
tharn lives?” 

“ The who ? ” inquired the boy in evident be- 
wilderment. 

“ The Loogetharn, the little man only a foot 
high, you know, who gives people purses full 
of gold that never get empty.” 

The boy’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. 

“ Never heard of him,” he said. “ Did some- 
body tell you he lived here? ” 

“ N — no,” Eva explained reluctantly ; “ that 
is, Delia didn’t say he lived here, but I hoped he 
did. He lives somewhere in the long grass and 
only comes out very early in the morning. Do 
you suppose ” — with sudden hopefulness — “ that 
it may be too late for him now ? ” 

The boy shook his head. 

“ I guess somebody’s been foolin’ ye,” he said. 
“ Was ye cryin’ ’cause he didn’t come ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Eva, blushing. “ You see, I do 
want that purse full of gold very much.” 

“ Want to buy candy and ice cream soda?” 
her new acquaintance inquired, sympathetically. 

“ Oh, no ; Lizzie wouldn’t let me, and Aunt 


218 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


Florence says ice cream soda isn’t good for little 
girls. I want it to send to my father in the 
Philippines, so he and my mother can come 
home.” 

“ I say, that’s awful good of you,” exclaimed 
the boy, in growing admiration. “ If I had a 
purse full of gold, bet yer life I wouldn’t be after 
givin’ it to me pap. What’s yer name, anyhow, 
and where do you live? I never seen yer before.” 

“ My name is Eva Gillespie, and I live in that 
white house over there. My grandpa has taken 
it for the summer, but we only came yesterday.” 

A look of comprehension came into the boy’s 
shrewd little face. 

“ I know,” he said, “ you belong to the folks 
what’s took Mr. Cromwell’s place. Me pap was 
Mr. Cromwell’s coachman, and he’s coachman 
now for the new folks, ’cause they took the horses 
and carriages, too.” 

“ I saw him,” said Eva, brightening. “ He 
drove us up from the station. I thought he 
seemed very kind.” 

“ Me pap’s all right,” returned the boy, cheer- 
fully. “ When I grow up I’m goin’ to be a coach- 
man just like him. I say! that little man with 
the funny name, you know — he ain’t the man in 
the box, is he? ” 

“ What man in the box ? ” Eva inquired. 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


219 

“ Over to Jackson’s; the little feller that sings 
and whistles and laughs. We hear him ’most 
every day singin’ like a good one, I can tell yer. 
He’s got a band in there with him, too. I guess 
he’s an awful jolly little man.” 

“ Is he only a foot high and does he live in the 
long grass ? ” 

“ He lives in the box most of the time, I guess, 
but maybe he can come out if he wants to. I 
don’t know how high he is, ’cause I ain’t never 
seen him, but he must be pretty small to get in- 
side that box.” 

“ Do you think you could take me to see him? ” 
Eva asked eagerly. 

The boy hesitated. There was something very 
appealing in the little, wistful, tear-stained face, 
and he was naturally good-natured. 

“ Maybe I could,” he said, doubtfully. “ Mrs. 
Jackson’s pretty nice; I guess she’d let us come. 
When do you want to go ? ” 

Eva glanced down at her unbuttoned boots and 
thought of her tangled hair. She was scarcely 
dressed for making calls, and yet if she let this 
opportunity slip Lizzie might never let her go out 
alone again. 

“ I should like to go now if it isn’t too early,” 
she said. 

“ It’s pretty early,” the boy admitted, “ but 


220 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


maybe that’s just as good. The Jacksons won’t 
be down yet. I know where the box is, and 
maybe we could slip around to the parlor winder 
and get in that way. We’ll have to hurry up, 
though, ’cause my breakfast’s ’most ready.” 

Eva was over the wall almost before her new 
friend had finished speaking, and next moment 
the two children were hurrying along the path 
together. 

“ What’s your name?” Eva inquired by way 
of making conversation. 

“ Joe Murphy,” was the prompt reply. 

“ How old are you ? ” was Eva’s next question. 

“ Seven, goin’ on eight. How old are you? ” 

“ I’m seven, too,” said Eva, much struck by 
the coincidence ; “ I was seven in March. I had 
a party on my birthday. Did you have a party 
on yours ? ” 

“ Nope. Them things is for girls, I guess. 
Me mother baked me a cake.” 

“ Have you got any brothers and sisters ? ” 

“ Nope.” 

“ I haven’t, either,” said Eva. “ You’ve got a 
father and mother, though ; they don’t live away 
off in the Philippines like mine.” 

Joe made no response to this remark, and they 
walked along for a few minutes in silence. 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


221 


“ Where do the Jacksons live? ” Eva asked, as 
her companion paused to open a gate. 

“ Right across the road ; it’s the next place to 
ours. Me pap says Mr. Jackson’s a millionaire; 
they’ve got an awful lot of horses.” 

Having crossed the road, which was quite de- 
serted at that early hour, they passed through 
some iron gates, and walked up a broad path, 
which soon brought them to a large stone house 
with columns. All the blinds on the upper floors 
appeared to be closed, but the lower part of the 
house was open. 

“ We mustn’t make any noise,” whispered Joe, 
“ or the butler man’ll hear us. He’s awful cross, 
and I guess he might send us home if he did. 
Come along this way; I’ll show you.” 

Having mounted the piazza steps, the two chil- 
dren tiptoed around to the side of the house. 
Before an open French window Joe paused. 

“ It’s all right,” he whispered, gleefully ; 
“ there’s the box, and there ain’t a soul around.” 

With a loudly beating heart, Eva stepped over 
the sill, and in another moment she and Joe were 
standing before a table on which stood a large 
Victor talking machine. 

“ He’s in there,” said Joe, pointing mysteri- 
ously to the box. “ Do ye want to talk to him ? ” 


222 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


“ Hadn’t you better do it ? ” suggested Eva, 
drawing back timidly ; “ he knows you better than 
he does me, you know.” 

But Joe declined to be the first to address the 
mysterious little man. 

“ You know what you want to say,” he per- 
sisted. “ Hurry up before somebody comes.” 

Thus urged, Eva gathered all her courage, and 
putting her mouth close to the brass horn at- 
tached to the machine, said in a trembling little 
voice that was not much above a whisper — 

“ Please, sir, excuse me, but are you the 
Loogetharn ? ” 

She jumped back the moment she had spoken, 
feeling horribly frightened at her boldness, but 
nothing happened. 

“ Maybe he’s asleep,” suggested Joe. “ Call 
him again.” 

“ Oh, I don’t like to; he might be angry. You 
call this time.” 

Eva was trembling, but Joe made a bold 
face. 

“ I ain’t scared,” he declared bravely, and ap- 
proaching his mouth to the horn, he shouted : 

“ Man in the box ; I say, old man in the box, 
wake up ! ” 

It was an awful moment. Eva fully expected 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


223 

that the man in the box would be very angry at 
being addressed so rudely, and involuntarily she 
clapped her hands over her ears. She might have 
saved herself the trouble, however, for all was as 
silent as before. 

“ He won’t answer,” said Eva, recovering a 
little from her panic. “ I don’t believe he’s the 
Loogetharn, after all. Hadn’t we better go 
home?” 

Before Joe could answer, a smothered laugh 
from behind them caused both children to turn 
with a start. A young gentleman with a very 
pleasant face was standing in the doorway, re- 
garding them with evident amusement. Eva’s 
first impulse was flight, but Joe, who evidently 
recognized the stranger, stood his ground. 

“ How do you do, Mr. Jackson,” he said, not 
without some embarrassment, and he put up his 
hand to his bare head, with a vague idea that he 
was touching his hat to the gentleman. 

“ How do you do yourself?” returned the 
newcomer, smiling. “ Now perhaps you will tell 
me what you two little people are doing with my 
talking machine.” 

“ It was her,” explained Joe, with a glance to- 
ward the trembling Eva. “ She wanted to talk 
to the man in there.” 


224 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


“The man in there,” Mr. Jackson repeated, 
and then he laughed aloud. 

“ So you thought a live man lived inside this 
machine, did you ? ” he inquired when he had re- 
covered his gravity sufficiently to speak. “ What 
put that idea into your heads ? ” 

“ Ain’t there a man in it? ” demanded Joe, his 
freckled face the picture of astonishment. “We 
hear him singin’ every day, and he whistles and 
laughs and plays the banjo.” 

Instead of answering, the gentleman opened a 
cabinet, and taking from it a large round plate, 
held it up for Joe’s inspection. 

“ This is the little man that makes all the 
noise,” he said, and having placed the plate in 
position, he set the machinery in motion. 

There was a slight whizzing sound inside the 
“box,” and then a loud voice announced — 

“ Uncle Josh’s experiences in an automobile.” 
The children both gasped, and then they lis- 
tened with breathless interest to the story of the 
unfortunate experiences of poor “ Uncle Josh,” 
and when the tooting horn, and the puff, puff of 
an automobile were added to the mystery, Eva 
was more than Half inclined to run away. 

“ It’s the wonderfullest thing I ever did see,” 
exclaimed Joe, as Mr. Jackson removed the harm- 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


225 

less looking plate from the machine and put it 
back in the cabinet. “ And there ain’t any man 
at all?” 

“No man at all,” the gentleman answered 
kindly, “ but now I must be off to my breakfast. 
I’m going to town by the seven-thirty. By the 
way, how did you manage to get in here ? ” 

“ That way,” said Joe, pointing to the open 
window. 

“ You are the little Murphy boy, are you not? 
and is this your sister? ” 

“ No,” said joe, “ she belongs to the folks 
what’s come to live at our place for the summer.” 

Mr. Jackson said “Oh,” and looked more at- 
tentively at Eva, but Joe, now that his curiosity 
was satisfied, had no more desire to linger for 
conversation, and seizing his little companion by 
the hand, he bade their host a hasty good-by. 

“ I’m afraid the Loogetharn isn’t here at all,” 
said Eva, with a sigh, as they walked toward 
home. “ It’s a very disappointing thing.” 

“ It’s too bad,” Joe agreed sympathetically. 
“ I’ll ask me pap about it,” he added as an after- 
thought. 

They reached their own gate in safety, and 
separated outside the stable door, Joe explaining 
that that was his house. Eva thanked him for 


226 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

his kindness, and expressed the hope that they 
should be friends, and then she walked to the 
house alone, and arrived at the front door just as 
Delia was coming downstairs. At sight of the 
little figure with tangled hair and unbuttoned 
boots, the maid drew back in amazement. 

“ For the land’s sake, Miss Eva,” she gasped, 
“ whatever have you been doing ? ” 

“ I went to find the Loogetharn,” Eva ex- 
plained, “ but he wouldn’t come. Then Joe said 
he might be the man in the box, so we went to 
Mr. Jackson’s house to see, but it wasn’t a 
man at all, just a plate, and Mr. Jackson made 
it talk. Joe doesn’t believe there’s any Looge- 
tharn here at all, and oh, I’m so dreadfully dis- 
appointed.” And throwing her arms around 
Delia’s neck, the little girl burst into tears, just 
as Lizzie’s voice was heard calling excitedly from 
the head of the stairs — 

“ Miss Eva’s got up and dressed herself, and 
gone off goodness knows where, and I never 
opened my eyes till this very minute.” 


CHAPTER III 


A FTER all, the consequences of that morn- 
ing’s episode were not so serious as 
^ might have been expected. To be sure, 
Lizzie was very angry at first, and scolded a good 
deal, but Eva was accustomed to Lizzie’s scold- 
ings, and to tell the truth, they did not trouble 
her very much. She was sorry she had been 
naughty, and readily promised never to do such 
a thing again, but her disappointment about the 
Loogetharn was very great, and for the time 
swallowed up every other feeling. For several 
days she was really unhappy, but Lizzie, though, 
careless, was not an ill-natured girl, and when 
she found that Eva did not suffer any ill effects 
from her wet feet, she left off referring to the 
matter, and did her best to make her little charge 
comfortable and happy again. 

She soon made the acquaintance of Joe’s 
mother, and in consequence Eva and her new 
friend were allowed to play together a good deal. 
Perhaps Aunt Florence might not have altogether 
227 


228 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


approved of the intimacy had she known of it, 
but Joe was really a very good little boy, and no 
harm came to Eva from the companionship. 

If it had not been for Joe poor little Eva would 
have been very lonely, for Aunt Helen continued 
very ill, and Grandpa and Aunt Florence could 
not think of leaving her. There was no one in 
the family who could come to stay with the little 
girl, so she was left entirely to the care of Lizzie 
and the other servants. But with Joe for com- 
pany, the days passed very pleasantly. Joe did 
not care for what he called “ girls’ truck,” and 
utterly scorned the dolls, but he was quite willing 
to dig and weed and plant in Eva’s little garden, 
and many a happy hour the two children spent 
planning over the wonderful things that would 
some day “ come up.” I fear there was small 
probability of any of the flowers and vegetables 
they planted indiscriminately together ever 
“ coming up,” but they enjoyed the anticipation 
just as much. Joe’s admiration of his father was 
profound. There was nothing which “ me pap,” 
as he called him, could not accomplish if he 
wished. 

“ He can tame the wildest colt that ever was 
born,” he announced triumphantly to Eva, “ and 
when he’s sittin’ on the box behind Mr. Crom- 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


229 

well’s chestnuts, he’s the handsomest coachman 
in New York City.” 

“ I am sure he must be,” Eva answered, po- 
litely, and then she added a little wistfully — 

“ I wish you could see my father. He’s a 
soldier, you know, and so very brave.” 

They had been at Locust about two weeks, and 
Eva was playing alone on the piazza one warm 
afternoon, Lizzie having retired to her room with 
a sick headache, when a familiar whistle an- 
nounced the approach of Joe, and that small boy 
made his appearance, swinging a large tin pail 
over his arm. 

At sight of her friend Eva looked up with a 
smile of welcome. 

“What yer playin’?” demanded Joe, pausing 
at the foot of the steps and casting a rather scorn- 
ful glance at the array of dolls and china tea 
things. 

“ I’m giving my family a tea party. We’ve 
only got make-believe things to eat, but perhaps 
I can find some cake in the pantry if you like it 
better that way.” 

Joe shook his head. 

“ Dolls’ tea parties is girls’ truck,” he re- 
marked. “ I’m goin’ after wild strawberries.” 

Eva’s face fell. 


230 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


“ I wish you’d stay and play with me,” she 
said; “ I’m very lonely.” 

Joe hesitated. He was really growing very 
fond of this gentle little playmate, although he 
had never admitted the fact even to himself. 

“ I want to get wild strawberries,” he said, 
but ” — with a sudden inspiration — “ why can’t 
you come along, too? ” 

“Where are you going?” Eva asked doubt- 
fully. 

“Only to the field back of Jackson’s; it ain’t 
far. Come and help me pick and I’ll give you 
half what I get for ’em.” 

“ Do you mean you’re going to pick them to 
sell ? ” Eva’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. 

“ Sure ! I earned thirty cents the other day. 
I’m savin’ up to buy a bike.” 

“ A what ? ” inquired Eva doubtfully. 

“ A bike ; bicycle, you know. I guess it’ll cost 
a lot, but me pap says every little counts. Say, 
you want money, too, don’t you — to send to your 
father, you know ? ” 

“ Of course I do,” said Eva, “ I want it very 
much indeed, but I’m afraid — wouldn’t it take a 
long time to earn as much as would fill a purse 
full of gold? ” 

“ I expect it would, but if I give you half it’ll 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


231 


be somethin’ anyhow. Say, me pap says that 
Loogetharn stuff’s all talk.” 

“ Doesn’t he think there’s any Loogetharn at 
all?” 

“ Nope. He says it’s just a fairy story like 
‘ Jack the Giant Killer,’ and ‘ Cinderella,’ and 
all the rest of ’em. He says if folks wants to get 
purses full of gold they’ve got to work for ’em.” 

“ I suppose that’s true,” said Eva, with a sigh. 
“ I was afraid that perhaps it was only a story, 
because when I talk to Delia about the Looge- 
tharn she always laughs. I wonder if Lizzie 
would be angry if I went with you to pick 
berries? ” 

“ Course she wouldn’t. Me mother lets me go, 
and you’re just as big as I am.” 

“ I can’t very well ask her,” said Eva, slowly, 
“ because she said she was going to lie down and 
I mustn’t disturb her. I suppose I might ask 
Delia or Mary, but I’m afraid they would say no, 
and I don’t really have to mind them.” 

“ Oh, come along and don’t bother,” inter- 
rupted Joe, impatiently. “ Where’s your hat?” 

“ I’ll get it in a minute. Wait for me.” And 
away flew Eva into the house, leaving the dolls 
to enjoy their tea party by themselves. 

Ten minutes later the two children were on 


232 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


their knees in the wild strawberry patch, rap- 
idly filling Joe’s big tin pail with the delicious 
fruit. 

“ It’s fine to earn money,” observed Joe, vir- 
tuously, as he paused in his work for a few 
moments and indulged himself by eating a hand- 
ful of berries. “ You don’t pick near as fast as 
me.” 

“ It’s rather hot, don’t you think so ? ” faltered 
Eva, apologetically, “ and it makes my back ache 
to lean over all the time. How long do you sup- 
pose it would take to earn a hundred dollars?” 

“ I don’t know ; a good while, I guess. A hun- 
dred dollars is a lot of money.” 

“ Yes, I know it is, but I’m afraid it would take 
as much as that to fill a purse with gold. Where 
are you going with the berries when the pail is 
full?” 

“ Oh, round to the different houses. Maybe 
we’ll have to go to two or three before anybody 
buys ’em. I guess we’ll try Jackson’s first.” 

“ I saw Mr. Jackson driving the other day,” 
said Eva. “ I think he is a very nice gentleman. 
I should like to go to his house again.” 

“ All right, we’ll go there, but hurry up or we 
shan’t get the pail full before dark.” 

In course of time, and by dint of steady and 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


233 

industrious picking on the part of both children, 
the big tin pail was filled to the brim, and Joe 
pronounced himself satisfied. 

“ Now come along,” he said, lifting the pail 
carefully as he spoke. “ We’ll go to Jackson’s 
first, and if they don’t want any we’ll try Scott’s 
and Hastings’.” 

Eva was very tired and her back ached, but 
she was too plucky to confess the fact. 

“ It isn’t very far, is it ? ” she inquired, anx- 
iously, as she trotted bravely on by the side of her 
sturdy little companion. 

“ Nope.” 

“ How much money shall we earn ? ” 

“ Depends ; maybe a quarter, maybe only 
twenty-four cents. Mother says the pail holds 
four quarts, and I asks six cents a quart. Four 
times six is twenty-four, but some folks throws 
the extra penny in and gives you a whole quarter. 
Some don’t, and them’s the mean ones. Old Mrs. 
Scott give me fifty cents once; she’s a real lady, 
she is.” 

“ How much is a half of a quarter? ” 

Joe pondered. 

“ I did know once,” he said, slowly, “ but I dis- 
remember. I’ll ask me pap.” 

Eva could not repress a sigh. Half of a quar- 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


234 

ter did not seem very high pay for her hard 
afternoon’s work. 

It was not far to the Jacksons’, and in a few 
minutes the children were walking up the path to 
the front door. 

“ Better go to the front,” Joe explained. “ If 
you goes to the kitchen like as not they won’t 
trouble to get the money.” 

Eva acquiesced in silence, and they mounted 
the Jacksons’ front steps and rang the doorbell. 
The door was opened by “ the butler man,” as 
Joe called him. He did not look amiable. 

“ Do you want any strawberries to-day? ” Joe 
asked politely. 

“ No, we don’t,” was the curt reply, and the 
door was promptly closed in the children’s faces. 
Eva’s lip began to tremble. 

“ Let’s go home,” she suggested timidly. 

“ Shucks,” returned Joe, who was not so easily 
daunted; “he ain’t no good. We’ll try Scott’s.” 

Eva sighed, but made no objection, and they 
trudged bravely on. 

Mr. Scott’s was the next house, but there were 
several fields between the two places, and by the 
time they reached their next destination poor lit- 
tle Eva was so tired that she could scarcely keep 
from crying. Joe tried to cheer her with anec- 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


235 

dotes of old Mrs. Scott’s kindness and benev- 
olence. 

“ She’s great for givin’ folks cake and things,” 
he announced, “ and just s’pose she gave us fifty 
cents. That would be one quarter for me and 
one for you.” 

But alas for Joe’s hopes. Mrs. Scott was out, 
and although the servant girl who opened the 
door was very civil, she did not appear to think 
the family were in any need of wild strawberries 
that day. 

“ Are we going home now ? ” Eva asked, anx- 
iously, as they walked away from the Scotts’ 
front door. “ I’m afraid Lizzie may be looking 
for me.” 

Joe glanced at his brimming pail and hesi- 
tated. 

“ Seems an awful pity to waste all them ber- 
ries,” he said. “ It ain’t far to Hastings’, and 
they ’most always buys.” 

“You do want the money very much, I sup- 
pose,” said Eva. 

“ Course I do ; didn’t I tell you I’m savin’ for 
a bike.” 

“ Hark, isn’t that thunder ? ” Eva looked 
frightened; she did not like thunderstorms. 

Joe glanced up at the sky. The sun was still 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


236 

shining brightly, but there was a bank of ominous 
black clouds in the west. 

“ Won’t amount to much, I guess,” he said, 
cheerfully; “not before we get home anyway. 
Come on.” 

“ All right,” said Eva, bravely. “ You’re sure 
it isn’t far?” 

It was not far, but every step was taking them 
farther from home, and by the time they reached 
the Hastings’ gate the threatening clouds were 
gathering fast, and the rumbling thunder sounded 
nearer. Then another sound fell upon their ears, 
a sound much more terrifying to Eva than even 
the thunder — the loud barking of a dog — and a 
large black and white collie came bounding 
across the lawn, wagging his tail in friendly 
greeting. With a shriek Eva started back, 
clutching her companion’s arm. 

“ It’s a dog,” she gasped, “ and he’s going to 
bite us. I don’t like dogs. Let’s run.” 

“ Don’t be a baby,” protested Joe, indignantly. 
“ Don’t you see he’s waggin’ his tail ? He’s glad 
to see us. Come along.” 

But this time Eva would not come along. She 
shrank behind Joe, crying and refusing to take 
another step forward. Joe wavered. He was 
very anxious to sell his berries, but there was no 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


237 

doubt about Eva’s distress, and he did not feel 
quite sure that he had done right in allowing the 
little girl to accompany him so far from home. 
He tried to compromise matters by proposing 
that he should go up to the house alone, leaving 
her to wait for him at the gate, but at the idea 
of being left alone, Eva became so much more 
frightened that he had to give up that plan, and 
at last he turned resolutely away. He would 
take Eva home and then come back with his 
berries. 

“ We’ve got to hurry,” he announced, with an 
anxious glance at the rapidly darkening sky. 
“ It’s goin’ to rain pretty soon.” 

Eva did try to hurry, but the little feet were 
very tired, and despite all her efforts to keep up 
with her companion, she kept lagging behind, 
much to Joe’s disgust. 

“ Can’t you run ? ” he demanded in a tone of 
exasperation, as a sudden gust of wind sent the 
dust flying in their faces. “ Girls ain’t no good 
for a lark.” 

“ N — no, I don’t think I can,” panted poor lit- 
tle Eva. “ I’m — I’m so very tired, and you do 
walk so fast. Oh ! what’s that ? ” 

It was a vivid flash of lightning, followed by 
a terrific clap of thunder, and with a scream of 


238 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

terror Eva sank down in the path, trembling 
from head to foot, and trying to cover her face 
with her dress. 

Joe was in despair. He set down his pail and 
seized her firmly by the arm. 

44 You’ve got to come along,” he said. But 
Eva did not move. 

“ I’m afraid, oh, I’m so afraid,” she sobbed. 
“ I want Lizzie or Delia or somebody. Oh ! oh ! 
oh!” 

At that moment a carriage, drawn by a hand- 
some pair of bays, and containing a lady and a 
gentleman, dashed around the corner in a cloud 
of dust. Joe recognized the horses, and with a 
sudden hope he sprang forward and began wav- 
ing frantically to the gentleman who was driving. 

“ Stop, oh, please stop,” he cried, imploringly. 
“ Eva’s so scared she can’t walk, and it’s goin’ 
to rain in a minute.” 

The gentleman pulled in the horses, not with- 
out some difficulty, for they were going very fast. 

“ What’s the matter, small boy? ” he called out 
impatiently. “ Don’t you see we’re hurrying to 
get home before the shower? Why, halloa! I 
believe it’s my little friend of 4 the man in the 
box.’ ” 

44 Yes, sir,” said Joe, 44 it’s me and Eva, and 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


239 

Eva’s scared of the thunder. I thought maybe 
you’d let her get in and go along with you.” 

Mr. Jackson laughed, and handing the reins 
to his companion, sprang out. Next moment Eva 
felt herself lifted in strong arms. 

“ You get in, too,” the gentleman said to Joe, 
as he hurried back to the carriage ; “ there’s 
plenty of room. Mrs. Jackson will hold the little 
girl in her lap. That’s right, bring the pail, too ; 
we haven’t a moment to lose.” 

Just what happened Eva did not know. She 
was passed rapidly from one pair of arms to an- 
other, and then they were driving along very 
fast, and she was hiding her face on somebody’s 
shoulder, while a sweet, kind voice said — 

“ There, there, little girl, don’t be afraid. We 
are almost home, and nothing shall hurt you.” 

The horses dashed under the Jacksons’ porte- 
cochere just as the threatened storm burst in all 
its fury. 

Mrs. Jackson hurried into the house with Eva 
in her arms, leaving her husband and Joe to fol- 
low more slowly. 

Once indoors, away from the wind and dust, 
and held in kind arms, Eva’s terror rapidly sub- 
sided, and in a few minutes she lifted her head 
and began to look about her. She found herself 


240 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


in the very room where she and Joe had 
listened to “ the man in the box,” and seated on 
the lap of a pretty lady, who was kissing and 
cuddling her in a way that was truly delightful. 

“ There now,” said the lady, cheerfully, “ you 
see you are quite safe. You’re not frightened 
any more, are you, dear?” 

“ N — no, I don’t think so,” said Eva, doubt- 
fully. “Isn’t this Mr. Jackson’s house?” 

“Yes, and I am Mrs. Jackson. Won’t you 
tell me your name?” 

Eva told her name, at which she thought Mrs. 
Jackson looked surprised. 

“ You and the little boy haven’t been out all 
by yourselves, have you ? ” she asked in a tone 
of evident disapproval. “ Where is your nurse? ” 

“ She’s got a headache,” said Eva, “ and I 
went to get wild strawberries with Joe. We 
picked such a lot, and he’s going to give me half 
the money he gets for them.” 

Mrs. Jackson smiled, though she still looked 
rather disapproving. 

“Your family are all away, are they not?” 
she asked, softly stroking the little girl’s hair as 
she spoke. 

“ Yes, Grandpa and Aunt Florence have gone 
to St. Louis to take care of Aunt Helen, because 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


241 


she is ill, and my father and mother are in the 
Philippines.” 

“ And who is taking care of you while every- 
body is away ? ” 

“ Why, Lizzie ; she’s my nurse, you know, but 
I play with Joe. His father is our coachman; he 
calls him his pap, but Lizzie says I mustn’t say 
that. Do you think you would like to buy our 
berries ? ” 

“ I should be very glad to buy them,” said 
Mrs. Jackson, kindly. 

Eva looked pleased. 

“ I’m very glad,” she said, “ and — and I hope 
you won’t mind paying the extra penny, because 
that will make just a quarter if you do, and we 
do want the money very much indeed.” 

“ My dear child,” exclaimed Mrs. Jackson, 
laughing, “ what in the world do you want it 
for?” 

“ Well, you see,” said Eva, blushing, “ of 
course it isn’t very much, but Joe says his pap — 
his father, I mean — says every little counts. If I 
could only earn a hundred dollars I could send it 
to my father in the Philippines, and then he 
would be rich, and he and my mother could come 
home. Grandpa says my father has to stay in 
the Philippines because he can’t afford not to, A 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


242 

hundred dollars is a great deal of money, isn’t 
it?” 

Instead of answering this question Mrs. Jack- 
son bent and kissed her. 

“ Are you so anxious to have them come home, 
dear?” she asked gently. 

“ Oh, yes,” said Eva. “ They’ve been away 
such a very long time, ever since I was three, and 
I do want to see my mother so much. I think 
you are somebody’s mother, aren’t you ? ” 

“ What makes you think that?” Mrs. Jack- 
son asked, smiling. 

“ I don’t know exactly,” said Eva, slowly, 
“ but I think you hold me the way mothers hold 
their little girls. I’ve seen them in pictures, and 
Bessie’s mother holds her that way sometimes.” 

“You dear, old-fashioned little thing,” said 
Mrs. Jackson, and there were tears in her eyes. 
“ Yes, I am somebody’s mother, though he is a 
very little somebody as yet. Would you like to 
come upstairs and see my baby boy ? ” 

Eva said she would like it very much, and Mrs. 
Jackson took her up to the nursery, where she 
made the acquaintance of the brightest, cunning- 
est six-months-old baby she had ever seen. Eva 
was enchanted with this new plaything, and in 
her delight over holding Master Henry Jackson, 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


243 


Jr., in her lap, and making- him laugh and show 
his dimples, she quite forgot both the thunder- 
storm and the lapse of time. The shower was 
soon over, but though Joe was sent home, with- 
out his berries, and with a bright silver fifty-cent 
piece in his pocket, nothing was said about Eva’s 
going with him. She was deeply interested in 
watching the baby being undressed — an occupa- 
tion in which both his mother and nurse took 
part — when happening to turn her head, she was 
more than a little surprised to see Lizzie standing 
in the doorway. 

“ Oh, Lizzie,” she cried, running to meet the 
maid, who was looking decidedly red and un- 
comfortable, “ did you come to take me home ? 
I’m having such a beautiful time.” 

“ And a nice fright you’ve given us,” began 
Lizzie reproachfully, but at a glance from Mrs. 
Jackson she paused, looking more uncomfortable 
than ever. 

“ Please don’t scold her,” Mrs. Jackson said, 
putting her arm affectionately around the little 
girl. “ I am sure she didn’t intend to be naughty, 
and it isn’t safe to leave little people too much by 
themselves. You must come and see us very soon 
again, Eva, dear; baby and I will always be de- 
lighted to see you.” 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


244 

Lizzie had brought Eva’s rubbers, for though 
the sun was shining, the grass was still very wet, 
and she and the little girl walked home together, 
Eva chattering all the way about the good time 
she had had and about that wonderful baby. 
Strange to say, Lizzie did not utter another word 
of reproach to her little charge. Perhaps she 
felt that she herself had not been altogether 
blameless in the matter. At any rate, Eva was 
not again left alone. 

True to his promise, Joe divided his earnings 
equally with his little friend, and Eva put a silver 
quarter carefully away in the top drawer of the 
doll’s bureau. 

“ It isn’t very much,” she confided to her in- 
visible friends, the good and the bad angels, “ but 
perhaps some time I shall get the rest, and then 
I shall send it all in a letter to my father. Oh, 
angels, won’t it be beautiful to see my mother? 
I’ve thought more about mothers ever since I 
went to see Mrs. Jackson. She’s a very nice 
mother, and I’m quite sure mine is a nice one, too. 
Don’t you love Mrs. Jackson’s baby, angels? I 
think to have a baby brother would be the most 
beautiful thing in the whole world.” 

Grandpa came home the following week, but 
Aunt Florence still remained with her sister, 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


245 


who, though much better, was still far from 
strong, and needed constant care. The fact of 
her grandfather’s return did not, however, make 
much change in Eva’s life, for he was obliged to 
be in the city all day, and she saw him only at 
breakfast and when he came home late in the 
afternoon. So the summer days slipped away, 
and Eva and Joe played together to their hearts’ 
content, while Lizzie and Joe’s mother looked on 
well satisfied, and Eva grew to have almost as 
high an opinion of “ me pap ” as Joe himself. 


CHAPTER IV 


J OE, Joe, oh, Joe, where are you? I want 
to tell you something.” 

Joe, who was swinging on the stable 
gate, turned his head at the sound of the familiar 
voice. Eva, her face radiant and flushed with 
excitement, her curls flying in wild confusion, 
was running across the lawn in the direction of 
her friend’s home. 

“ What’s up? ” demanded Joe, springing down 
from the gate. 

“ It’s about my father and mother,” panted 
Eva, as she reached his side in a breathless con- 
dition ; “ they’re coming home.” 

“Coming home,” repeated Joe; “home from 
the Philippines ? Hurrah, you don’t say so ! ” 

“ Yes, it’s all in a letter Grandpa got in the city 
to-day. Just as soon as he came home he called 
me downstairs and told me all about it. My 
mother has been ill, but she’s well again now, and 
my father is going to be a soldier over here in- 
stead of in the Philippines. They’re on their way 
home, and Grandpa says there’s a surprise that he. 
246 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


247 

won’t tell me about till they come. Oh, Joe, isn’t 
it the beautifulest thing you ever knew? ” 

“It’s grand,” said Joe, heartily. “When’ll 
they get here ? ” 

“ Grandpa thinks in about two weeks, but he 
isn’t quite sure. Just think of it, Joe, I’m going 
to see my own mother in two weeks, and my 
father, too.” 

Joe’s mother, hearing the children’s voices 
raised in unusual excitement, now appeared in 
the doorway to inquire what was the matter, and 
she, too, appeared much pleased when Eva told 
her the wonderful news. 

“ I’m just as glad as I can be,” she declared. 
“ A little girl like you needs somebody besides a 
nurse to look after her. My, but won’t your 
mother be happy? I know how I should feel if 
I hadn’t seen my Joe since he was three,” and 
sh.e glanced lovingly at her sturdy little son, who 
was turning somersaults in the grass by way of 
expressing his satisfaction over his friend’s good 
fortune. 

Eva was too happy to sleep that night, and for 
the first time in her life she was actually wide 
awake when Lizzie came up to bed. Lizzie, al- 
though she foresaw an end to her easy reign in 
the return of her little charge’s mother, was too 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


248 

good-natured to express any dissatisfaction in 
Eva’s presence. She did not even scold when 
the little girl sat up in bed, with wide-open eyes, 
and inquired eagerly — 

“ How many days are there in two weeks, 
Lizzie? ” 

“ Fourteen,” said Lizzie. “ Now go to sleep 
like a good girl, or I shall have to be cross.” 

“ You never want to be cross, do you, Lizzie? ” 
inquired Eva, as she obediently turned over on 
her side. 

“ Of course not. I have to be sometimes, 
though, when little girls don’t behave.” 

“ I don’t suppose mothers have to be cross, do 
you?” 

“ I guess they do, just at often as anybody 
else. I’m sure Mrs. Murphy scolds Joe often 
enough.” 

“ I don’t believe my mother is like Mrs. 
Murphy,” said Eva, with conviction. “ I think — 
I’m almost sure — she doesn’t ever have to be 
cross.” 

“ Well, I shall have to be cross if you say an- 
other word, so go straight off to sleep, or I shan’t 
be able to let you drive to the station to meet your 
grandpa to-morrow.” 

To drive to the station to meet grandpa on his 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


249 

return from the city had become one of Eva’s 
greatest pleasures. Murphy, the coachman, was 
always kind, and sometimes when the road hap- 
pened to be particularly quiet, he would let the 
little girl drive the horses herself. Those were 
proud moments for Eva, and for Joe, too, for Joe 
was growing very proud of his little friend’s 
accomplishments. 

“ You drive ’most as good as I do,” he re- 
marked on one occasion, and he really felt that 
he was paying Eva a very high compliment. 

Eva had requested that Joe might be allowed 
to accompany her on these occasions, and as Mr. 
Gillespie had no objection, the two children were 
generally to be seen on the front seat, beside Joe’s 
“ pap.” 

“ Say, Eva,” remarked Joe the next morning, 
when the two were swinging together on the 
seesaw, “ your pap didn’t have to wait for that 
hundred dollars after all.” 

“ No,” said Eva ; “ he must have more money 
than I thought he had. I’m very glad, for I’m 
afraid it would take me a very long time to earn 
a hundred dollars.” 

“ You’ve got a quarter, though. What ye 
goin’ to do with it ? ” 

Eva reflected for a moment. 


250 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


“ I’ve been thinking about that,” she said, 
“ and I can’t quite make up my mind. I think 
perhaps I ought to give it to my father, because 
I was saving it for him.” 

“ Shucks ! I don’t believe he’d want it. A 
man can’t do much with a quarter. Why don’t 
you buy somethin’ — candy or peanuts, or ice- 
cream soda ? ” 

Eva shook her head resolutely. 

“I don’t think I ought to do that,” she said; 
“ besides Lizzie won’t let me eat those things. I 
wonder how it would do to buy a present with it 
for my mother ? Ladies like to get presents.” 

Joe looked disappointed, but admitted that he 
s’posed that would be all right, and Eva fell to 
discussing the subject with deep interest. 

“ I wish I knew what she’d like best,” she said. 
“ I think I’ll ask your father to let us stop in 
the village on the way to the station this after- 
noon, and I’ll see what I can find. It must be 
something very handsome.” 

Accordingly Murphy was requested to start a 
little earlier for the train that day, as Eva had a 
little shopping to do. On the way to the village 
the little girl questioned him earnestly on the 
subject of presents for ladies, beginning by 
inquiring — 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


251 


“ If you were going to give Mrs. Murphy a 
very handsome present, what would you get?” 

“ Depends on how much I had to spend,” re- 
turned the coachman with a smile. 

“ Well, suppose you had twenty-five cents to 
spend,” said Eva, glancing proudly at the bright 
silver quarter she was holding tightly clasped in 
her hand. 

Murphy laughed, and began making various 
suggestions, such as a spool of silk, a paper of 
hairpins, and a needle book, all of which struck 
Eva as most uninteresting and not at all what 
she wanted. 

At last they drew up before a building, one 
half of which was used as a post office and the 
other half as a country store. 

“ Maybe you’ll find something you like in 
there,” said Murphy, good-naturedly, as he 
helped the children out. 

With a beating heart Eva approached the 
counter, followed by Joe. 

“ I want to buy a present for a lady,” she said 
to the young woman, who had risen at their 
entrance. 

“ What sort of a present? ” she asked, smiling. 

“ I — I don’t know exactly ; something very 
handsome, and something that ladies like.” 


252 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


“ How much do you care to spend ? ” 

Eva laid her quarter upon the counter. “ I 
want to spend it all,” she said. 

The young woman suppressed a desire to 
laugh, and began suggesting various articles, but 
her ideas upon the subject were no more satis- 
factory than Murphy’s had been. 

“ I don’t think I care about any of these useful 
things, thank you,” said Eva, decidedly. “ I’m 
sure she must have tape and a pencil and a 
thimble. I want something pretty.” 

The woman looked hopeless, but Joe, who had 
been eagerly casting his eyes about the store, now 
made a suggestion. 

“ That’s a dandy breastpin,” he remarked, 
pointing to a large, round, shiny brooch, which 
was conspicuously displayed among a number of 
similar articles in one of the cases. 

Eva’s face brightened. 

“ It is pretty,” she said. “ How much is it, 
please? ” 

“ Well,” said the woman, smiling, “ it’s 
marked thirty cents, but I guess you can have it 
for a quarter. Are you sure you really want it, 
though ? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Eva. “ It’ll be so pretty for 
her to wear when she goes out to dinner. Will 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


253 

you please put it in a little box and do it up very 
carefully, because it’s for a present” 

The woman complied good-naturedly, and Eva 
and Joe watched proceedings with much interest. 

“ Ain’t you goin’ to open it till your mother 
comes?” Joe inquired. 

Eva shook her head. 

“ I’d like to show it to people,” she said, re- 
gretfully, “ but I guess I’d better not. You see, 
my mother might like to show it herself, and if 
everybody had seen it already, why, there 
wouldn’t be any fun.” 

So Joe’s father was not permitted to see the 
contents of the little box that Eva carried so 
proudly. Neither was grandpa when he arrived, 
and as soon as they reached home Eva ran to 
bestow her new treasure carefully away in the 
dolls’ bureau, the same place where the precious 
silver quarter had lain for so long. 

It seemed to Eva for several days as if that 
two weeks of waiting would never come to an 
end, but time slipped by, as it always does, and at 
last there came an evening when grandpa came 
up to the nursery with an open telegram in his 
hand, just as Lizzie was doing Eva’s hair up in 
curl papers for the night. 

“ Your father and mother will be here to-mor- 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


254 

row, Eva,” he said, and there was a ring of glad- 
ness in his voice. “ They have left Chicago and 
will be in New York by noon to-morrow. Aunt 
Florence and I will meet them there, and we will 
all come home together. You know Aunt Flor- 
ence is coming to-morrow, too.” 

Eva gave a little gasp, and her heart began to 
beat very fast indeed. It was really going to 
happen, the thing she had been thinking and 
dreaming about for so long, and now that the 
time had actually come, she was not sure that she 
was not just a little bit frightened. She was 
very quiet after grandpa had left the nursery, 
and scarcely spoke all the time Lizzie was un- 
dressing her. Lizzie was surprised. She had 
expected a wild outburst of delight, and but for 
the child’s flushed cheeks and shining eyes, she 
might have supposed her quite indifferent to the 
matter. 

“ You’re a queer child, Miss Eva,” she re- 
marked, as she tucked the little girl up in bed. 
“ Now I wonder if I can trust you to go right to 
sleep, and not lie there talking to yourself all the 
time I’m down at my supper.” 

“ I’ll try to go to sleep,” said Eva, “ and I 
won’t talk out loud.” With which promise Liz- 
zie was forced to be satisfied. 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


255 


Eva did try to go to sleep and she did not talk 
out loud. She could not resist whispering a little 
to the angels, but she did it very softly, and after 
a while she fell into a doze. But she was too 
much excited to go sound asleep yet, and before 
long she was wide awake again. It was a very 
warm evening, and Lizzie had left the door open 
between the nursery and her own little room. 
Eva could see the light burning in Lizzie's room, 
and while she lay listening to the crickets and 
katydids, and thinking about that wonderful to- 
morrow, she heard Lizzie and Delia coming up- 
stairs together. 

“ Come and sit in my room,” said Lizzie. 
“ It's cooler up here than in the kitchen, and you 
can bring your sewing.” 

Delia accepted the invitation, and the two 
maids sat down together and began to talk. 
Lizzie’s back was to the nursery door, and she 
probably forgot the fact that she had left it open, 
for she made no effort to lower her voice. At 
first Eva paid no attention to the conversation, 
and was just beginning to feel sleepy again when 
some words caught her ear, and next moment 
she was wide awake again. 

“ I thought she’d be just about wild when Mr. 
Gillespie came up with the news,” Lizzie was 


256 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

saying, “ but she didn’t seem near so excited as 
I expected.” 

“ Poor little thing,” said Delia, “ she’s just 
crazy about her mother. I do hope she won’t 
have a disappointment.” 

“ So do I,” returned Lizzie, with a sigh, “ but 
I don’t feel sure. It isn’t natural to suppose her 
mother can be so terribly fond of her after stay- 
ing away such a long time, and then you know 
her being a girl was a dreadful disappointment 
to the family.” 

“ Why, did they want a boy so much ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ; didn’t you ever hear about it ? ” 

“ No,” said Delia, and Lizzie went on, lower- 
ing her voice a little, but still speaking quite loud 
enough for every word to be heard by the eager 
little listener in the next room. 

“ Well, you see it was this way. Mr. Gil- 
lespie had a brother — a queer sort of a man they 
say he was — who made a big fortune in Cali- 
fornia. He had quarreled with his family, and 
never would have anything to do with our Mr. 
Gillespie, but he never married, and when he died 
left a will giving everything to Mr. Harry Gil- 
lespie’s son, provided he should have one by a 
certain date, but if at the end of that time there 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


257 

shouldn’t be any son, then it was all to be divided 
among different charities. Mr. Harry Gillespie 
is Eva’s father, you know, and as the old gentle- 
man died just before Eva was born, of course 
her being a girl was a dreadful disappointment 
to them all. I heard Miss Florence telling a 
friend once that she cried about it for nearly a 
week.” 

“ It was a great pity,” said Delia. “ I sup- 
pose it’s too late for the son to be of any use 
now.” 

“ No, I don’t believe so. I think if a son was 
born any time within ten years it would be all 
right. Hush ! Isn’t that Eva moving ? ” 

They were both silent for a moment, and then 
Lizzie rose and stole softly to Eva’s bedside, but 
the little girl was lying quite still, with her face 
to the wall. 

“ She’s asleep all right,” Lizzie announced, re- 
turning to her friend, but she took the precau- 
tion to close the nursery door, and Eva heard 
no more conversation that night. 

But the little girl was not asleep, and had 
Lizzie listened more attentively, she might have 
heard a smothered sob from beneath the bed 
clothes. 


258 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

“ Oh, angels,” whispered the poor child, “ did 
you hear? My mother was disappointed when 
I came. She didn’t want me because I was only 
a girl. Oh, it’s very dreadful, and I don’t know 
what I can possibly do about it.” 


CHAPTER V 


E VA was still very quiet when she rose the 
next morning, but perhaps this fact was 
less noticed than it might have been if 
everyone in the house had not been very busy. 
Mr. Gillespie was determined to celebrate the 
return of his soldier son, and orders were given 
that the house should be decorated, flowers placed 
in every room, and flags and lanterns hung from 
the trees on the grounds. Grandpa was a very 
happy man that day, for not only was his brave 
soldier son coming home after years of absence 
from his native land, but his daughter Helen was 
almost well again, and his favorite daughter, 
Florence, who had kept house for him ever since 
the death of his wife, was also coming back to 
him. He thought, as he drove to the station, 
that he had a great deal for which to be thank- 
ful, and he quite forgot to wonder what had 
made his little granddaughter so quiet during 
breakfast, and why she had left her plate of oat- 
meal and cream almost untasted. 

As soon as she could escape from Lizzie after 


259 


26 o WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

breakfast, Eva went out in search of Joe. She 
found him outside the stable door, harnessing 
a toy horse and wagon. Joe had also heard the 
good news, and, like Lizzie, he expected his little 
friend to be wild with delight. 

“ Halloa ! ” he shouted joyfully, as he caught 
sight of Eva’s approaching figure ; “ ain’t it 
grand they’re cornin’ home to-day? Oh, I say,” 
— his expression changing as the little girl drew 
nearer — “ what’s up ? Been spanked ? ” 

“ No, of course not,” said Eva, indignantly, 
“ I never was spanked ; Grandpa and Aunt Flor- 
ence don’t approve of it.” 

“Well, what’s the matter then?” Joe per- 
sisted, regarding the solemn, troubled little face 
anxiously. “ You don’t look one bit glad, and 
me pap says your mother’s cornin’ home to- 
day.” 

“ Let’s go somewhere where people can’t hear 
us talk,” said Eva in a low voice. “ I want to 
tell you something.” 

Joe jumped up promptly, and the two walked 
away together to a favorite resort of theirs under 
a big apple tree, where the seesaw was. 

“Well, what is it?” inquired Joe, balancing 
himself comfortably on the seesaw and motion- 
ing to his friend to do the same. 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 261 

“ It’s something very dreadful,” said Eva, 
solemnly. “ I heard Lizzie telling Delia about it 
last night. They thought I was asleep, but I 
wasn’t, and the door was open. My mother was 
dreadfully disappointed when I came, because I 
wasn’t a boy. If I’d only been a boy I would 
have had a great deal of money. I don’t know 
how much, but I think it must have been as much 
as a hundred dollars.” 

Joe whistled. 

“ That is pretty bad,” he said. “ Can’t you 
get the money if you’re a girl ? ” 

“No; Lizzie said a boy had to have it. Of 
course my mother couldn’t help being disap- 
pointed, and my father, too. Lizzie says Aunt 
Florence cried about it for almost a week.” 

“Shucks!” remarked Joe, scornfully, “what 
a baby. I wouldn’t cry for a thing like that. 
Maybe your mother’s got used to it by this time 
and doesn’t care any more.” 

Joe spoke hopefully, but Eva shook her head. 

“I’m afraid she does,” she said, mournfully; 
“ she couldn’t help it, you see. If she’d lived 
here and known me all the time, she might have 
got used to it, but she’s been away so long, and 
now she’s coming home, and she’ll have to be 
disappointed all over again. If she could only 


262 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

find a little boy instead of a little girl when she 
comes.” 

“ Well, she can’t, so what’s the good 
botherin’ ? ” 

“ I’ve been thinking about it a great deal,” 
said Eva, slowly, “ and — and I’m almost sure 
I’ve found a way if you’ll only help me, Joe.” 

Joe’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. 

“ What yer goin’ t’ do about it ? ” he inquired. 

“ Well, first I thought I might dress up like 
a boy and pretend I was one, but I was afraid 
that wouldn’t do. And then I thought of an- 
other way. Joe, would you mind very much 
coming to live at our house and being my 
mother’s little boy ? ” 

Joe gasped. 

“ What for? ” he demanded. 

“ Why, you see,” Eva explained, with a catch 
in her voice, “ they’ve been away such a long 
time that I don’t suppose they can really love me 
so very much. If you were there to meet them 
when they came, and told them you were going 
to be their little boy, I think — I’m almost sure 
they’d love you.” 

“ No good,” said Joe, with decision; “ me pap 
wouldn’t let me.” 

“ I’ve thought of that, but I’m quite sure he 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 263 

would, and your mother, too, when they under- 
stand about it. I heard your mother say the 
other day that she wished she had a little girl, 
and I’d try to be very good, I really would.” 

“ Do you mean you’d go to my house to live ? ” 
inquired Joe, in growing bewilderment. 

“ Yes, of course; I’d have to, you know; there 
wouldn’t be any other place for me to go. My 
father and mother wouldn’t want two children, 
and yours wouldn’t want not to have any at all. 
I really think you’d like it at our house, Joe. 
Grandpa and Aunt Florence are both very kind, 
and Lizzie isn’t often very cross. Then there 
would be my mother, you know. You could 
have all my toys to play with. You don’t care 
about dolls, but there are lots of other things.” 

“ I can’t make out what you’re drivin’ at,” said 
Joe, whose face was by this time the picture of 
puzzled amazement. “ I thought you was just 
crazy about your mother.” 

“ So I am — oh, Joe, I was so happy when 
Grandpa said she was coming home.” 

“ Then what do you want to go and live in 
my house for? ” 

“ Because — because — why, Joe, can’t you un- 
derstand? I don’t want her to be disappointed 
again. I want her to be so happy, and if she 


264 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

comes home and finds a nice little boy instead of 
just an old girl, I know she’d be glad. You can 
be on the piazza when the carriage comes from 
the station, and she’ll see you the very first thing. 
Oh, Joe, please, please do say you’ll do it.” 

But Joe was obdurate. 

“ I ain’t goin’ away from me pap,” he de- 
clared ; “ he’d be mad and mother’d cry.” 

“ Do you really think they would mind so 
very much ? ” said Eva, anxiously. “ I thought 
they might mind a little just at first, but I would 
try to be so good, and everybody says I’m not 
very much trouble.” 

Suddenly Eva’s composure gave way, and she 
burst into tears. 

The sight of his little friend’s distress was too 
much for Joe, and his resolution wavered. 

“ I’ll go and ask me pap,” he said, and was 
about to jump off the seesaw, but Eva held him 
back. 

“ I don’t think you’d better do that,” she said ; 
“ I think we ought to have it for a surprise. My 
father and mother won’t be here till half-past 
four, so after dinner you can come over to my 
house, and I can go to yours. Then we can 
both hide till it’s time for them to get here. You 
see, I’m afraid that if Lizzie saw you first she 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 265 

might send you home, and your mother might 
send me home, too, but when my mother comes 
and says she wants you for her little boy, why, 
it will be all right.” 

Joe was still far from convinced of the pro- 
priety of this strange plan, and it took a great 
deal of persuasion and a good many tears on 
Eva’s part before he finally gave his consent. 
But Eva had made up her mind, and although her 
poor little heart was aching more than it had 
ever ached in her life, nothing could shake her 
determination to carry out her scheme. They 
talked about it for a long time, and at last Joe 
yielded to the force of persuasion, and both chil- 
dren went home, having agreed to meet again 
under the apple tree soon after dinner. 


CHAPTER VI 


W HAT a very strange morning that was. 

Eva sat in the nursery for a long time 
by herself. It was fortunate that 
Lizzie was busy downstairs, for the little girl had 
several things to attend to, and it would not 
do to be asked awkward questions. First she 
dressed all the dolls carefully in their best clothes, 
and opening the door of the wardrobe, put her 
whole family away on the bottom shelf. 

“ Joe doesn’t like dolls,” she said to the angels. 
“ I must make it look as much like a boy’s 
nursery as I can.” 

So the tea set was also stowed away in the 
wardrobe. The doll’s bed and bureau were too 
big to be hidden, so they had to remain where 
they were, but the two cologne bottles and brush 
and comb were put away, and several games 
placed on the bureau in their place. Finally the 
express wagon and make-believe fire-engine were 
brought into prominent view, for Joe had once 
declared that “ playing fire ” was great fun, and 
266 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 267 

had condescended to drag the express wagon up 
and down the piazza one afternoon for an hour. 

“ It doesn’t look nearly as nice as it used to,” 
said Eva, surveying the result of her labors with 
a sigh, “ but perhaps Joe will like it better. O 
dear! it is all very sad.” And then all at once 
the poor little girl broke down again and began 
to cry. 

Meantime Joe was feeling decidedly uncom- 
fortable. He had no nursery to arrange for 
Eva’s reception, but there was his little bed close 
beside his mother’s, and the corner of the kitchen 
where he kept his horse and cart, and his tool 
chest. That tool chest was the pride of Joe’s 
heart. 

“ And she won’t care a bit for it,” he said to 
himself, regarding his treasure with mournful 
eyes. “ She’d be sure to cut her fingers if she 
touched it. I wonder if I couldn’t take it along.” 

For a moment his hopes rose, but then he 
realized the impossibility of carrying away the 
chest without being seen, and Eva had strictly 
enjoined secrecy. 

It seemed to Joe as though his mother had 
never been quite so kind before as she was that 
morning. She was baking cookies, and there 
was a whole panful made especially for him, 


268 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


all cut in different shapes, pigs and dogs and cats 
and rabbits. She had often done the same thing 
before, but somehow he had never felt so much 
touched by the attention. He tried to eat a pig, 
but a big lump rose up in his throat and choked 
him, so that he found some difficulty in swallow- 
ing. Then he went into the stable to say good- 
by to the horses. He would see them when he 
lived in the big house, of course, but he didn’t 
believe it would be at all the same thing. His 
father, who was washing carriages, spoke to him, 
oh, so kindly, and Tim the stable boy invited him 
to go crabbing in the afternoon. At another 
time he would have been overwhelmed with joy 
at such an honor, but to-day he declined with 
thanks, much to his father’s astonishment. 

“ What’s in hand for the afternoon, Joe?” 
he inquired wonderingly. 

Joe’s color rose, and he fidgeted uneasily, first 
on one foot and then on the other. 

“ Me and Eva’s goin’ to — to play,” he faltered, 
at which Tim laughed and called him “ a girl 
boy,” but his father said kindly — • 

“ That’s all right. If you can amuse the little 
girl to-day I’m glad, for they’re all as busy as 
they can be up at the house.” 

Poor Joe’s heart was very heavy, and nothing 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 269 

but his strong affection for Eva could have in- 
duced him to remain true to his promise. 

At one o’clock Eva was called down to the 
dining-room to eat her solitary dinner. The 
house was beginning to look very festive, but 
she was afraid to look about much for fear she 
might cry, and be asked uncomfortable ques- 
tions. She tried hard to eat as usual, but it 
was not an easy thing to do, and the waitress 
remarked upon her loss of appetite. 

“ I guess it’s just the excitement,” said Lizzie, 
to whom the maid confided her fear that “ Miss 
Eva wasn’t feeling very well.” “ She’ll be all 
right when her mother comes. What are you 
going to do this afternoon, Miss Eva?” she 
added, putting her head in at the dining-room 
door. 

Eva, who was playing idly with her dessert, 
gave a little nervous start. 

“ I’m — I’m going out to play with Joe,” she 
stammered, but her eyes did not meet Lizzie’s, 
and her cheeks were very red. 

“ Oh, very well, only be sure you don’t go off 
the place, and remember you must be in by half- 
past three. I want to have you all dressed before 
it’s time for your mother.” 

Eva said nothing, and Lizzie went away quite 


270 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

satisfied. Since the day of the strawberry-pick- 
ing Eva had not been allowed to go beyond their 
own gate, unless accompanied by some older per- 
son, and she was such a gentle, obedient little 
girl that it never entered Lizzie’s head not to 
trust her implicitly. 

At three o’clock Joe was standing under the 
apple tree, waiting impatiently for his friend. 
His hands were thrust deep down in his pockets, 
and he was trying to whistle, but he stopped short 
in the middle of a tune, as he caught sight of a 
little figure coming toward him across the lawn. 
Very slowly she came, pausing every few seconds 
to look back at the house she had just left. Her 
head drooped, and as she came nearer Joe could 
see that she was crying softly. 

“ Halloa,” he called, with assumed cheerful- 
ness, “ is it all right ? ” 

Eva did not answer until she was close at his 
side, and then she nodded. There was a pause. 
Somehow neither of them could think of any- 
thing to say. Then Joe remarked — « 

“ Me mother’s gone out, and me pap’s in the 
stable. You can slip in at the side door without 
nobody’s knowin’.” 

“ All right,” said Eva in a tremulous little 
voice. Then she added in some embarrassment: 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


271 


“Joe, dear, would you mind letting me look at 
your hands. I think my mother would like to 
have her little boy have clean hands.” 

“ They’re fine,” returned Joe, holding out two 
white little hands for Eva’s inspection. “ She 
scrubbed ’em before she went out. She said if 
me hands was black Lizzie wouldn’t let me come 
in your house to play. Will I have to keep ’em 
like this all the time, do you s’pose, when I lives 
there? ” 

“ I don’t believe so,” said Eva, reassuringly. 
“ My hands often get very black when I’ve been 
playing in the dirt, only just at first you know; I 
thought — Lizzie was going to put on my best 
white dress.” 

But Joe still looked troubled. 

“Say, what’ll I do about me Sunday suit?” 
he inquired, anxiously. “ It’s just new, and I 
wouldn’t like to lose it. It wouldn’t be no good 
to you anyway.” 

“ I know,” said Eva, doubtfully, “ I’ve been 
thinking about that. It’s just the same with 
my clothes, too — you couldn’t wear them, could 
you?” 

“ Well, I guess not.” Joe’s face expressed 
extreme disgust. “ Say, if there’s goin’ to be 
any of that funny business I’m out of it.” 


272 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


“ Oh, there won’t be, I’m sure there won’t,” 
cried Eva, eagerly. “ Most likely our mothers 
will send for our right clothes.” 

Joe looked relieved, and Eva drew from her 
pocket a little box carefully done up and tied with 
pink string. 

“ It’s the breastpin,” she said, holding the 
box out to Joe. “ You can give it to her. Tell 
her I — bought — no, no, I mean you bought it for 
her, and you hope she’ll like to wear it when she 
goes out to dinner.” 

“ But I didn’t,” said Joe, looking puzzled; 
“ you bought it yourself.” 

“ I know I did, but don’t you see, Joe, I’m not 
going to be her little girl any more, and you’re 
going to be her boy, so you must give it to 
her.” 

“ Well, I’ll tell her you bought it, and give it 
to me for her,” said Joe, who was a very truthful 
little boy, and with this concession Eva had to be 
satisfied. 

“ Now, I think we’d better begin,” said Eva, 
gulping down a sob. “ Lizzie told me to come in 
at half-past three. She’s down in the laundry 
ironing now, so you can hide somewhere, and 
remember, you mustn’t answer when you hear 
her calling.” 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


273 


Joe nodded. 

“ Good-by,” he said, huskily. “ Say, do you 
s’pose they’ll let us play together any more ? ” 

“ Oh, I think so ; why shouldn’t they ? ” 

“ ’Cause mother said when your aunt come 
home she wouldn’t let us.” 

“ I think my mother will, though,” said Eva, 
hopefully. “ Oh, Joe, if she shouldn’t I don’t 
know what I shall do. I thought when I came 
to my — I mean to your house — I should see her 
sometimes, and — and maybe she’d kiss me.” 

Eva was winking hard to keep back the tears, 
and Joe rubbed the back of his hand hastily across 
his eyes. 

“ I don’t want to do it one bit,” he said. 
“Must I truly, Eva?” 

He cast an imploring glance at his friend, but 
Eva was firm. 

“ You promised,” she said, and after that Joe 
was silent. 

Five minutes later, Joe, with a loudly thump- 
ing heart, had slipped softly in at the open front 
door, and was crouching down behind the parlor 
sofa. At the same moment Eva was stealing up 
the steep, narrow stairs that led to the Murphys’ 
quarters over the stable. 

It was the first time the little girl had ever 


2;4 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


been in Joe’s home, and having reached the top 
of the stairs, she looked about her in growing 
astonishment. There were only two rooms, the 
front one, which did duty as both parlor and 
kitchen, and the one at the back, which was the 
family bedroom. Everything was scrupulously 
neat, but to Eva, who had never been in such 
a place before, it all looked very strange and 
uncomfortable. It was very hot, for the after- 
noon sun was beating down fiercely on the tin 
roof, and the windows were small. There was 
nobody about, and Eva walked from one room 
to the other, silently examining everything, and 
growing each moment more and more uncom- 
fortable. Was this place going to be her home? 
O dear! O dear! it was very dreadful; how 
could she ever bear it? She was very, very un- 
happy, but was afraid to cry out loud for fear 
Joe’s father should hear her and come up to find 
out what the matter was. She looked about 
anxiously for a place to hide, and seeing a little 
bed in the corner, which she was sure must be 
Joe’s, she decided to get into it, and then if 
anyone came she could hide underneath the 
bedclothes. 

Oh, how hot it was, and how the flies did 
bother her! She could hear the horses stamping 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


275 

in the stable below, and by and by a carriage 
drove away, and she knew Murphy had started 
for the station. Then everything was very quiet. 
She wondered what was happening at home, and 
if Lizzie had begun to look for her. The stable 
clock struck four. In another half-hour they 
would come, her brave soldier father and her 
beautiful mother. There was no use in trying 
to .keep the tears back any longer, or the choking 
sobs either. They came thick and fast, but there 
was nobody to hear now, and by and by the 
poor child, worn out by excitement and fatigue, 
cried herself to sleep. 

It was just half-past four when Mr. Gillespie’s 
carriage, containing a gentleman and two ladies, 
turned in at the gate and dashed up to the front 
door. One of the ladies — she was very pretty — 
was leaning forward eagerly as if in search of 
something, and she was out of the carriage 
almost before the horses had stopped. She was 
followed more slowly by the others. The pretty 
lady still looked about her in the same eager way, 
and she was trembling. 

“ Where is she — oh, where can she be ? ” she 
cried, hurrying toward the open front door. 
The other lady — she was Aunt Florence — laid 
a detaining hand on her arm. 


276 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

“ Don’t be so excited, dear,” she said, sooth- 
ingly ; “ I will find her in a moment.” Then 
raising her voice, she called impatiently : “ Eva, 
Eva darling, where are you ? ” 

There was no answer and no one appeared. 
The door stood wide open, revealing the gayly 
decorated hall, but the house was apparently 
deserted. 

“ How very strange,” said Aunt Florence ; 
“ what has become of everybody ? Lizzie, Delia, 
Mary, where are you ? ” 

She hurried into the house, in growing be- 
wilderment, but the other lady had grown very 
white and dropped into a chair. 

“ Something has happened — oh, something 
must have happened,” she whispered with 
shaking lips. 

The gentleman, a tall, soldierly looking man, 
put his arm around her tenderly. 

“ Don’t be frightened, my darling,” he said. 
“ Here comes father ; perhaps he can tell us 
something.” 

A station hack that had been following Mr. 
Gillespie’s carriage now drove up to the door, and 
out sprang Mr. Gillespie himself, then turned 
to offer his assistance to the other occupant, a 
middle-aged woman with a baby in her arms. 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


277 

At that moment Aunt Florence reappeared, her 
face the picture of astonishment and consterna- 
tion. 

“ It’s the strangest thing,” she began, “ I can’t 
find anyone in the house, and ” 

She paused, arrested by a sound behind her. 
A little boy with a very red and tear-stained face, 
and* clutching something tightly in one hand, was 
slowly advancing toward the front door. Aunt 
Florence had never seen Joe before, and now she 
stood gazing at him in amazement. 

“ Who are you?” she demanded, but before 
Joe could answer, grandpa had appeared upon 
the scene and recognized the small intruder. 

“ It’s little Joe Murphy, the coachman’s 
boy,” he explained. “ What’s the matter, Joe? 
Where is everybody ? ” 

Joe lifted his hand politely to his forehead, as 
his father had taught him to do. 

“ Please, sir,” he said, “ I think they’re all out 
lookin’ for Eva.” 

“ Looking for Eva — you don’t mean that she 
is lost? ” 

There was alarm in Mr. Gillespie’s tone, but 
Joe did not notice that. His eyes had wandered 
past grandpa and Aunt Florence, and were 
eagerly fixed on the face of the pretty lady, who 


278 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

at these words had suddenly sprung to her feet, 
with a sharp cry. 

“ Lost ! my little girl lost ! Oh, Harry, what 
shall we do ? ” 

She turned appealingly to the tall gentleman, 
who had also grown rather white, but before he 
could speak Joe had stepped forward and was 
eagerly addressing the strange lady. 

“ Please, ma’am, don’t be scared. She ain’t 
really lost; she’s just over to my house.” 

Everybody looked relieved, and Eva’s mother 
caught Joe’s hand impulsively. 

“ Where is your house, little boy ? ” she cried. 
“ Take me there at once; I must see my 
Eva.” 

She was starting off at a rapid pace, but Joe 
hung back. 

“ I — I don’t think she wants you to come,” 
he stammered, looking imploringly up into the 
lady’s face. “ You see, she’s goin’ to live at my 
house all the time, and — and she said I was to 
stay here and be your little boy.” 

Mrs. Gillespie gasped and dropped Joe’s hand. 

“ To be my little boy,” she repeated incredu- 
lously ; “ what in the world do you mean ? ” 

“ Well, you see it was this way,” Joe ex- 
plained. “ She says you was awful disappointed 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


279 

when she came, ’cause she was a girl ’stead of a 
boy, and she thought maybe if you found a little 
boy when you come home, you’d be glad. So 
she’s goin’ to be my mother’s little girl, and I’m 
goin’ to be your boy.” 

Joe’s lip was trembling, and he found a good 
deal of difficulty in making his explanation. No- 
body helped him, for they were all looking at 
each other with blank bewilderment on their 
faces. 

“ She told me to give you this,” Joe went on, 
thrusting a little box into Mrs. Gillespie’s hand. 
“ It’s a present she bought for you herself; she 
paid a whole quarter for it, but she said I must 
give it ’cause I was goin’ to be your boy. She’s 
awful good, Eva is, but — but I don’t think I 
can be your boy; I — I want to go home to me 
pap.” And Joe suddenly broke down com- 
pletely and burst into tears. 

When Eva awoke it was with a strangely 
bewildered feeling. She could not remember 
where she was or what had happened, and she 
gazed about the unfamiliar room, trying to re- 
member how she had come there. There was a 
smell of something being fried, and she could 
hear low, subdued voices in the next room. Then 
all at once she remembered everything, a great 


280 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

wave of homesickness swept over her, and she 
buried her face in the pillow with a sob. 

“ Oh, I don’t think I can do it — I don’t think 
I really can,” wailed the poor little girl. “ I 
want my mother, my own dear mother.” 

There was a faint rustle by the bedside and 
someone bent over her. 

“ Eva,” a sweet voice whispered, “ my own 
precious little Eva.” 

Eva lifted her head with a start, and next 
moment her arms were clasped tight around her 
mother’s neck. 

“ And you’re not really a bit disappointed — 
you’re quite sure you wouldn’t rather have a boy 
than a girl ? ” 

Eva was sitting in her mother’s lap, the loving 
arms holding her close. Joe, with his hands in 
his pockets, was regarding proceedings from the 
doorway. His face was radiant. 

“ My darling,” Mrs. Gillespie answered, stoop- 
ing to kiss the earnest little face, “ I would rather 
have my own precious Eva than all the boys in 
the world. Why, don’t you know that I have 
been longing for you every day and every night 
for four whole years ? ” 

Eva gave a little sigh of utter content, and 
nestled closer in her mother’s arms. 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 281 

“ I’m so very glad/' she said. 

“ But now, my pet, we mustn’t trouble Mrs. 
Murphy any longer. Don’t you want to come 
home and see your father? He has seen you, 
but it was when you were fast asleep. And there 
is someone else for you to see, too.” 

“ Yes, I know, it’s Aunt Florence,” said 
Eva, and she slipped down from her mother’s 
lap. 

“ Aunt Florence, and someone else besides. 
Now say good-night to Mrs. Murphy and Joe, 
and then we will go.” 

Mrs. Murphy, whose eyes were red, and whose 
preparations for supper were frequently inter- 
rupted by her stopping to give Joe a kiss every 
few minutes, bade them a hearty good-by, and 
just as they were leaving, Mrs. Gillespie turned 
and laid her hand kindly on Joe’s head. 

“ You are a brave, unselfish little boy,” she 
said, “ and if I were your mother I should be very 
proud of you.” 

Joe was speechless. He stood gazing after 
the two retreating figures, with an expression 
that made his mother ask — • 

“ What’s the matter with you, Joe? ” 

Then Joe’s feelings found vent in words. 

“ She’s the beautifulest lady I ever did see,” 


282 WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 

he said, slowly. “ I guess Eva couldn’t give her 
up, after all.” 

“Do you wish she was your mother?” Mrs. 
Murphy asked, a little jealously. 

Joe shook his head. 

“ No,” he said, decidedly. “ She’s awful 
pretty and nice, but — well, you see, I’m used 
to you and pap, and — and I guess I like you 
best.” 

Eva and her mother walked quickly to the 
house, Mrs. Gillespie keeping her little daughter’s 
hand clasped tightly in hers all the time, and 
there on the piazza was the tall soldier, whose 
photograph Eva knew so well. He came hurry- 
ing forward to meet them, and took the little 
girl in his arms. 

“ My own little Eva,” he said ; “ my precious 
little daughter.” 

“ And now, my darling,” said Mrs. Gillespie, 
smiling, “ I want you to come upstairs and see 
the other person I told you about.” 

Eva followed her mother, wondering very 
much who “ the other person ” could possibly be. 
In the upper hall they met Aunt Florence, who 
greeted her little niece affectionately. Eva no- 
ticed that both her mother and aunt were smil- 
ing and looking very happy. They all paused 















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*11 


A CUNNING, THREE-MONTHS-OLD BABY. — Page 283 



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WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 283 

before the door of a room opposite to Eva’s 
nursery, and Mrs. Gillespie knocked. 

“May we come in, Nurse?” she asked 
pleasantly. 

“ Certainly, ma’am,” answered a voice. “ I’ve 
just given him his bottle and he’s as good as 
gold.” . 

They all went in, but on the threshold Eva 
stopped short, with a little gasp. In the rocking 
chair sat a woman with a very kind face, and on 
her lap, serenely blinking his eyes, lay a cunning 
three-months-old baby. 

“ Come and see your little brother, Eva,” Mrs. 
Gillespie said. 

“ My little brother — is he really and truly 
mine ? ” Eva was bending over the baby, in 
rapture almost too great for words. 

“ Your very own,” her mother answered, kiss- 
ing her. “ His name is Harry, after Father, and 
he is just three months old. Didn’t Grandpa 
tell you there was going to be a surprise ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Eva, “ but I didn’t think he meant 
a baby. Oh, look, look, he’s holding my finger, 
just like Mrs. Jackson’s baby did. Oh, mother 
dear, I do love him so very, very much.” 

When Eva was in bed that night her father 
and mother both came to kiss her. It was the 


WHEN EVA WAS SEVEN 


284 

first time that such a thing* had ever happened 
within her remembrance, and she found the 
experience very delightful. 

“ You’ve got it on,” she exclaimed joyfully, 
gazing with admiring eyes at the big shiny brooch 
which was at the moment the most conspicuous 
adornment of Mrs. Gillespie’s white dinner dress. 
“ It is pretty, isn’t it ? Do you really like it very 
much, mother dear?” 

“ I never had a present in my life that I valued 
half so much,” was the answer that made Eva so 
happy and proud that, with a sudden impulse, 
she flung her arms around her mother’s neck. 

“ I guess I’m the happiest little girl in the 
world,” she said. “ It was very sad this morn- 
ing, but this afternoon was so beautiful.” 

“ Don’t think about this morning any more,” 
her mother said tenderly. “ My little girl made 
a very foolish mistake, but she knows better 
now.” 

“ Yes, I guess it was foolish,” said Eva, re- 
flectively. “ Of course you’d love me just the 
same even if I was only just a girl. I suppose 
mothers always love their children whatever kind 
they are, but, mother dear, you’ve really got a 
boy now, and so you won’t ever have to be 
disappointed again.” fy q ^ ^ 
















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